Life after Death
by SunshineAndSecrets
Summary: When Saphira's magic saves Eragon from a near death experience, he is changed drastically. But life waits for no one, and Eragon learns to live with his new self, and a new Arya as well. !BATTLE WITH THE KING! !ExA Pairing!
1. Chapter 1

**Well, here's chapter one! Hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: Not my characters, my plot.**

**Rating: T – T+ Mild cussing.**

**Summary: When Saphira's magic saves Eragon from a near death experience, he is changed drastically. But life waits for no one, and Eragon learns to live with his new self, and a new Arya as well. !BATTLE WITH THE KING! ExA**

_Eragon! Hold on!_

_ I'm trying Saphira! The wind... it's..._

Eragon couldn't concentrate on thinking long enough to finish that sentence. He had to focus every muscle, every thought, on gripping as tightly as he could on the saddle horn before him. The wind billowing and swirling around him seemed to be trying to lift him off and away from Saphira, or drive him forward to one of her deadly neck spikes.

Saphira had long ago grown to tired to fight the winds, and navigate through the torrential rain the storm was producing, and was now tumbling through the sky, helpless. Eragon knew what was happening, Brom had warned him about it. The heavy atmospheric pressure was pushing him towards the ground, but the rising heat was holding them up. The storms was the most dangerous here, it was fiercest, and hardest to fly in, right where they were stuck. Eragon had been an idiot, and now they couldn't escape.

Suddenly, a new feeling crawled across his skin. Like a million small insects, it rolled across his arms, face, neck, and legs. His hair raised. A strange ringing filled his ears. He was about to ask Saphira if she felt it too, when a white hot, blazing pain seared through him. It lit his blood on fire, and he could feel his skin began to burn, and smell the cooking flesh in the air. Saphira roared in agony and they began to plummet. Saphira's weak wings no longer able to keep them upright.

All Eragon knew was pain. It was more severe than anything he had ever felt. Worse than when Brom died, worse than Glaedr's pain over the loss of his rider, worse than anything Durza's curse had inflicted upon him. Eragon could not fight it, and he felt his will crumpling. He felt his body shrink within itself, trying feebly to hide from the fire. Somehow, Eragon recognized what he was doing.

He was running away. He was begin a coward. Wasn't that all he ever did? Run away from his problems, his fears? He ran away from his farm, and his uncle died. He ran away from Durza and Brom died. He had run after Durza and Ajihad had died. So many of his loved ones... well not this time. Eragon pulled himself out of his cocoon and faced the pain head on, even taking some from Saphira and adding to his load. The last thing he thought before he blacked out was _Saphira..._The bolt of lightning flashed across the Sky, mocking it's latest victim with an unflinching cruelty.

-Two Weeks Later-

Eragon felt... fuzzy all over. His skin still tingled with warmth, but no longer a searing fire. His mind felt strangely clear, like someone had washed all the impurities and pain away, leaving him only with himself and...

_Open your eyes, little one._

_ Sa-Saphira. What happened?_

_ We fell from the sky after being struck by a bolt of lightning. I do not remember anything from that time, except for the pain. But we are alive. And different._

_ Different?_

_ Open your eyes Eragon._

Eragon tried to do as she asked, but as he did, the light streamed heavily into his sockets, burning his retnas. He flinched back, clamping his eyes shut. Tears streamed lightly from the corners of his eyes.

_Try again._

_ But-_

_ Do it._

Eragon heaved a mental sigh and did as she asked. Opening his eyes the tiniest fraction did not hurt as much this time, and over the course of almost five minutes, he had them fully opened, and was astonished. They had changed. First his eyes were drawn to the mighty Dragon curled around him. She was at least three times bigger than she had been before, even bigger than Glaedr had been.

Her face had become more angular and smooth. Her eyes a deeper blue, her scales more luminous, and her teeth whiter and sharper. She was the most beautiful dragon he had ever seem, even out of the hundreds he had seen in pictures from the elves libraries.

_You have changed as well, Eragon._

_ Have I?_ Eragon muttered the spell to see through her eyes, and let a shocked gasp blow between his lips. Even through the blue tint of Saphira's eyes, he could see that his own eyes were no longer hazel, but a shockingly bright sapphire blue, the same as Saphira's. His hair had a grown a tint lighten, more like caramel now. His face too had reconstructed itself. Less like an elf, though not quite a human. Just something wild, something dangerous. His body was wrapped in a tight sinewy muscle. He was not bulky and cumbersome, but instead lithe. He was reminded of a wolf, somehow. Eragon was by no means vain, or narcissistic, but he had never seen a more beautiful man than the one reflected in Saphira's eyes.

His eyes were then drawn to the world around them. To the north, trees had be cast down, trunks splintered, and even charred. The ground was shredded and churned up from where Saphira had landed. But this was not what held his attention. He could see everything. The leaves on the trees lost no definition, no matter how far away they were. He could see the veins running through each and every one, even the small insects that crawled along their surface. Every blade of grass, every strip of bark, every animal and everything around him for miles.

Then he realized he could smell and taste it as well. The leaves were sharp and bitter, where as a mouse scuttling through the leaf litter was warm and nutty. Morning dew glittered on every surface and cast rainbows glinting in all directions. He had never seem like this before, he had never even guessed at the definition the world could bring. It was baffling, and he lay in awe. A wind blew and the once light rustle of the leaves in the trees roared around him like and ocean wave crashing around his head.

_Saphira... what happened to us? Everything is so... so..._

_ Amazing? I can only guess that as we fell, my Magic felt our pain and healed us, and in addition, made us they we are now. Rise little one, there is more._

_ More? How could there possibly be more?_

As soon as Eragon thought to get up, he was up. The movement was instantaneous. He moved faster than the eye could see, even to his eyes the movement was little more than a blur. It was also soundless. Eragon grinned. _Sight. Speed. Strength?_ Eragon looked around the destroyed clearing. He found a large rock that had been churned out of the ground. He placed his palm face down on the surface and exerted a small amount of pressure on it. It crumbled beneath his fingers and he grinned.

"From strength comes magic." He murmured to himself, remembering his fathers words. Eragon drew upon his reserves of magic, moving his hand from the pile of gravel to the forest floor. Probing it with his mind, he felt various things beneath him. Worms, rodents, tree roots, but even farther below that, he felt the glowing presence of precious gems. He grinned and pulled them up out of the ground, keeping a careful check on his strength.

When he felt no more in the ground, he cut of his power and opened his eyes. The only fatigue he felt was feather light, a barely noticeable caress in the depths of his mind. In front of him he saw the glittering raw forms of rubies, emeralds, sapphires, topaz, diamonds, and pure gold. By themselves, they were to small to be of any value. They looked more like dust than gems. Eragon drew on his strength and murmured the words that would bond them together: diamonds to diamonds, gold to gold, and so on.

Together, they were much more noticeable, the ruby about the size of his skull, the diamond the size of his fist. Everything varied, and Eragon smiled. The gems were more than enough to keep a small town afloat for many years, being quite a considerable fortune. He tucked the stones into his bag, unsure of what to do with them.

He bent his knees and leaped. He noticed as he was airborne that his mind seemed to function better. He was more capable of making calculations, he came to conclusions easier, and his thoughts seemed more languid. He landed squarely on Saphira's back, pleased that he had been able to leap all the way up; a feat he could never have done before without the aid of magic.

Saphira chuckled at his exuberance, and with one powerful down thrust, they were in the air, and flying off for Feinster. It had been a simple mission for him. Get to Surda, talk to the councilors in place of Nasuada, bring back some documents. No one had been expecting the storm, and they probably thought he was dead, or worse, captured by Galbatorix. He would have to think of a way to convince them that it was indeed him. Magic of course, he would show Arya his memories.

Eragon had a pleasant time flying back, more so than he normally would have. He and Saphira found great pleasure in using their new eyes to view their surroundings in ways they wouldn't have been able to do before. They had taken to counting the number of deer they saw until they reached the city. The sun was setting, illuminating the sky in glorious tones of gold, pink, and violet, when they saw Feinster on the horizon.

At first, both Dragon and Rider were unsure of their location, because what had been a three day trip south, had taken them only a day flying north, and with a prevailing wind. But there was no doubt. The Varden's tents were stationed outside the walls, and he could see the Surdan banners flapping in the strong winds. Eragon had long been able to count the bricks in the wall, at almost five miles away, when the alarm drums began to beat an invasion rhythm. A volley of arrows sped towards them, and he raised his hand, putting a magic barrier around Saphira and himself. He sent out a probe and found Arya in place on the wall. She seemed to have recognized him and sadness coated her minds presence; she apparently thought he had been captured.

Her barriers were strong but he was stronger. He did not delve into her mind, just burrowed under the first layer so she could hear his thoughts. _Arya! I'm still me! I promise that I am not in the service of the King!_ He said in the ancient language.

_Eragon?_ He saw her hold up her hand, and from two miles, he could hear her call out "Cease! Our Rider Eragon has returned a free rider! Someone get Nasuada!" She turned her attention back to Eragon and thought _Where have you been?! What has happened to you? Saphira is..._

_ It is a very long story. In short we were struck by lightning and Saphira's dragon magic altered us, but the whole story will have to wait until the whole council is with us, for it is a long one I would prefer not to repeat._

_ Very well. Nasuada is on her way._

_ I know._

With that last comment, he pulled out of Arya's mind with a smirk. He landed before the great gates of Feinster. He realized that Saphira would no longer fit inside the city streets without crushing buildings and causing havoc. He could smell Arya's sharp pine fragrance nearing them, and his mind grew dizzy for a moment. Saphira chuckled.

Arya came sprinting around the corner of the gates, her breath coming slightly faster than it normally would. Her hair splayed around her, and Eragon gasped. As she drew closer, he could pick out things he had never noticed before. Her skin glowed with a light, as if radiating with magic. Her black hair fell in waves from her head, glittering in the dim sunset light.

He could not help but notice other things about her, more sinful things that had his cheeks blazing like the sunset, and he hoped that evening light would mask his embarrassment. He unfastened himself from the saddle and leaped down the forty feet that would have shattered the bones of any human or elf. He rose from his crouched landing position and trotted over to her.

Arya's eyes were wide and suspicious, and though it was obvious that she was trying to keep her emotions in check, a look of what Eragon could only assume was astonishment over his return twitched its way onto her face, or maybe it was his new appearance. "Shadeslayer, it is wonderful to know that you are unharmed, and that you have returned to us in even better condition that you left us in."

"Hello to you too." He smirked, his tone slightly sarcastic in the face of her pleasantries. Looking down at her, Eragon realized that he had grown a considerable amount as well, now looking down at Arya by almost six inches, where as before it had only been two.

No one else but Eragon would have been able to see the disapproving grimace ghost across Arya's features. It was obvious that she had been wanting something more formal, something that would give her an excuse to ask him about his absence. Eragon sensed this and said "You'll know everything as soon as the others get here." Eragon raised his nose to the air and sniffed gently, and action that was not missed by Arya. The air was filled with the scents of the city. Cooking food, stone and smoke, but he focused on those even closer. Fine linen, fresh earth, and blood along with the sweat of horses greeted him. He guessed that Nasuada, Orik, and an Urgal representative was accompanying the group, along with King Orrin.

"Ah, here they are." Eragon said.

Arya sent him a confused look and parted her lips as if about to say something when the group rounded the great gates. Arya instead murmured under her breath "I am expecting a full explanation of this."

"Of course." He promised.

By now, Nasuada's group had trotted their way out of the city. Nasuada tried to bring their group towards them, but the horses they rode were skittish, and shied away from Saphira. Eragon reached them with his mind, reassuring them. Nasuada noticed his concentrated gaze and grinned thankfully, drew closer, and spoke. "Shadeslayer! It brings me great joy to see that you have returned to us unharmed, and as the messenger told me, a free rider. Is this true?"

"Yes." Eragon answered in the ancient language.

"Very well. I also assume there is a story behind all of this as well." Nasuada gestured towards him and Saphira.

"Yes, but I suggest we venture to more private quarters, and seeing as Saphira can no longer fit inside your walls, might I suggest a different location?"

"Please lead the way, Eragon Shadeslayer." King Orrin said, gesturing out towards the forest. Eragon nodded and turned, jogging into the wooded area.

Saphira leaped into the air and soared above them. Eragon already knew where they were going, having noted the clearing as they were flying into the city. It was about a fourth of a mile away from the walls and large enough to house their entire party. As they breached the barrier of foliage surrounding the empty space, Eragon once again called on his reserves of magic, asking the roots of the trees to grow into a large earthen table, with six seats surrounding it.

He had just finished molding the top of the table when the others emerged from the forest. All eyes were wide, but none more so than Arya's who alone knew the amount of magic necessary to create it, and in such short time. Her mind brushed his.

_How are you not exhausted, Shadeslayer?_

_ All in good time, Shadeslayer. _He laughed lightly under his breath as Arya's brows moved together and a frown settled on her face. He pulled out of her mind as they all seated themselves. Nasuada claimed the seat on his right, and King Orrin seated himself in the one on his left. Once all was settled he began.

"Before I begin, I would like to know the duration of my absence, for I do not know it myself." His eyes cast around the circle, looking for an answer.

King Orrin answered him. "Two weeks, four days, Shadeslayer."

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Arya's frown gain definition.

"Thank you. Well, two weeks, three days ago, you all know that I left Feinster with the orders to carry out a diplomatic run to Surda. I was able to do so, and departed from Surda on schedule. Notably, it was one of the more unintelligent things I could have done. I wished to return to the Varden as soon as I could, and because of that, I disregarded the very plain signs of a storm brewing in the northern sky.

"I should have stayed in Surda, and because I did not, Saphira and I were caught in a very dangerous place. In every storm, there is a layer between updrafts of hot air, and cold air clouds. It is where many things happen. Tornado's form, rain is created, and also lighting is most dangerous and numerous. Because of the winds pressing in on us from all sides, and the violent rain, we had no choice but to let the winds have us. It was then that we were struck by a bolt of lightning.

"I'm not sure how long we were thrashed about in the sky, or how long it was until we crashed to the ground, only that I never wish to be struck by lightening again. The pain overwhelmed us both. I can only imagine that being dipped into a cauldron of boiling pitch would be more pleasurable than that. Regardless, something happened during that time, and we can only guess that Saphira's magic saved us, and turned us into what you see before you, as well as enhancing our bodies and minds.

Orik spoke. "What do you mean, brother?"

"I shall demonstrate." Without standing, Eragon used all his speed, so that none other than Saphira could see flit to the opposite side of the table. As Eragon appeared out of thin air behind Arya, he laid a hand on her shoulder and said "Speed." Once again, he disappeared to the west end, where a large rock lay, unmovable by human hands. He laid his palm face down on it like he had the first time and squeezed. It shattered. "Strength." Moving his palm to the ground, he pulled up the gems and precious stones, like he had before.

He brought them out of the ground, and just thought the words that would let him mold the stones at his will. He crossed his arms over his chest, and sent the stones circling above the the table, molding together before there eyes. He laid them down gently, a different stone before each member of the Varden. A ruby before King Orrin, and Sapphire or Orik, and Topaz before the Urgal who's name Eragon still didn't know. He had collected the most emerald on purpose, and had even tinted it slightly to match the exact color of Arya's eyes, and set that before her, while he gave and large diamond and a gold orb to Nasuada.

"Magic" He said strongly, no falter in his voice, and no sweat on his forehead. What would normally have knocked him unconscious, or even killed him, gave him nothing but a slightly faster heart beat. The members of the Varden were staring at their gems in awe. Eragon spent this quiet moment studying the rainbows cast by the shimmering stones, the ones he knew that he alone could see. Nasuada spoke up, tears making her voice jumpy.

"Eragon Bromsson Shadeslayer, a better gift you could not have given. This will feed and clothe our people more many months to come. And though it was through no small amount of pain and sorrow on your part, I can not help but rejoice at the greater gift you have given us. The Black King stands no chance against you, and he shall surely fall."

**Well, well, well?! Did you like it? Huh, huh, huh?! I hope you did, and you know you you can let me know? You can click that pretty green button. Yeah, you know what I'm talking about. I know you know! Click it!**

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**V V**


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2! There's some drama in this one. Be sure to read my 'After Chapter Notes' because I NEED YOUR HELP! I want to slow this fic down, but I need some good filler; something pointless but interesting that won't affect the plot yet keeps your attention. Any ideas?**

Nasuada's small speech brought determined grins to everyone's face and she nodded. She rose and spoke again. "I am off. I have already planned on how to best utilize this, and must return to the city."

"I shall accompany you. Thank you again, Shadeslayer." King Orrin said. The Urgal and Orik left as well, with the Dwarf giving him a hearty punch to Eragon's gut, and saying "Welcome back." The only one left in the clearing other than Eragon and Saphira was Arya. He flitted behind her and as he had before, laid his hand on her shoulder. He felt her jump beneath his hand, and he could hear he heart speed up.

"Gods, Eragon! Snap a twig next time." She said before she could compose herself.

"I apologize. Are you alright?" He asked, concerned, he sat next to her.

"I am well. Simply... astonished. Even I, who is considered one of our better spell casters, would not be able to do all you have done with out dying more than once over. And your strength and speed..." Arya shivered beneath her, and Eragon detected only the faintest hints of a blush trace her skin, and that confused him. "I do not understand."

"Neither do we, but it doesn't matter weather or not we understand, only that we can use this to defeat the King."

"You have grown wiser as well..."

"I'm not sure about that, only time will tell. And there are so many things about this that we don't know about. Is it permanent, can it be taken away? Also other things, where does it end, what are my limits, what about mind breaking skills? As well as swordsmanship... There are so many unknowns, I'm sure this could just as easily become a curse."

"I suppose. Would you be willing to accept help, if you feel this could become dangerous? I would be happy to assist you."

"Of course." Eragon said, his bright blue eyes lighting up.

"Try to break into my mind." She instructed.

"Very well." He said, closing his eyes, he prepared himself. He was judging his force on what her barriers had seemed to be before. He grossly overestimated the necessary force. He sent a spike towards her mind, and found that he could brush past her barriers easily. She yelped in pain and he hurriedly pulled out of her mind. He looked towards Arya to see a grimace on her face, teeth bared, and clutching her head in one hand, her other begin clenched into a fist on her lap.

Eragon shrunk before her, fearing one of her anger spells. Instead she gasped, her breath coming in pants. "Very good." She winced.

"Arya Drottingu, my deepest apologies. I, uh, suppose I do not know my own strengths." He winced at the cliched words.

"It is alright Eragon. It was to be expected.

"Really?"

"Yes." She rose from her seat, shaking her head to clear away the head ache. "Now, as for your swordsmanship." She drew her lithe elven blade from it's sheath. Eragon grinned lightly and drew Brisingr from his sheath. For the rest of the night, they did not spar as much as they practiced forms and techniques, teaching each other what they knew. The night drew on until the moon reach it's zenith, and then passed some, before they returned to the city.

_Go to the city, Little One. Sleep and feast. I too must hunt, but I will rejoin you in the morning._

_ Yes, Saphira. Rest and hunt well._

Arya sat down on one of the seats with a huff. "And you feel no fatigue?"

"None at all."

"Incredible. Well, I must return, for I tire. I suggest you seek out Nasuada, she can find you somewhere to rest."

"Alright. To Feinster, then." They rose and made their way into the city.

..--The Next Day--..

Eragon awakened to golden sunlight streaming through the window of the small house he had been given. The owners had abandoned it during the fight, and the new recruits to the Varden had occupied all the extra tents. He used magic to shave, and dressed in tan leather pants, a white tunic, and a black leather vest to go over top. He belted Brisingr to his side, and slung his quiver and bow over his back.

Once prepared for the day, he left the house for the city. The cobblestone streets were dusty, and still splattered with blood in places from when the Varden had taken Feinster not even two fort nights ago. Eragon grimaced and searched for an inn where he could have breakfast. He found such place almost fifteen minutes later. It was packed with people, both citizens of Feinster, and people of the Varden, some of which he recognized.

Walking up to the bar, he asked a man for some ale, and the best cut of meat they had, along with a sufficient supply of potatoes and greens. The man looked sceptically at the boy, who he assumed had no money at all, but changed his mind when Eragon retrieved his bulging coin purse and asked "How much will that be?"

Eragon sat down to his feast, heartily digging in to soothe his grumbling stomach. Though it was the custom of the elves to shy from meats, Eragon had long since dispelled the notion, having been raised on meats his whole life. He was quick to devour the suckling pig, and slices of beef on his platter. There were copious amounts of everything, and he was pleased to share it with any of his friends that happened to be there.

After the feast, he left in good spirits. He wandered the streets for hours, doing whatever struck his fancy. He found an armory and purchased a brand new volley of arrows. At a tailor, he browsed their selection of tunics, leggings, belts, vests, and other such things. He found three tunics, red, blue, and black, that he liked a purchased them as well. He sun had crept high into the sky and he was still taking in the scenery.

Eventually he was on the far side of the city. The great marble wall loomed over him, sunlight glittering on it's polished walls. Looking around himself, he found no beggars, no cripples, and no poverty. The city was so much different than some places he had been, it brought a broad smile to his face. Horses trotted along the streets, and cats purred, twining themselves through the legs of their loved ones, or simply basking at their owners heels. Dogs barks, chasing mice and rats in the alley ways and children laughed as they ran through the streets.

Though he had been disturbed ever since the soldier had cursed him during the siege of Feinster, asking him why he couldn't have just left well enough alone, Eragon felt happiness within himself. He knew what he was doing was right. Under Nasuada and Orrin's careful rule, prosperity had sprung up everywhere. Children laughed and wives whistled happy tunes while they awaited for their valiant husbands to return from the war. It wasn't like this in Dras Leona, and definitely not in Uru'baen.

A voice rang out behind him, and he eagerly turned to meet it, a smile on his face. "Shadeslayer."

"Hello, Arya." He twisted his two fingers to his lips and bowed.

She returned the gesture. "I was wondering if you wished to resume training today."

"Any little bit would help. I do believe I neglected to thank you last night though, so I shall now. I learned much from you." He smirked.

Arya's heart fluttered against her will, and she prayed his heightened hearing could not detect it. "You're welcome. Shall we return to the same clearing."

Eragon nodded. "After you."

The walk outside the city was long and quiet, but not uncomfortable. Comments were made from time to time on the cities architecture, or a shop of some sort, but it never bloomed into conversation. As they passed under the North Wall, Eragon spotted Saphira lounging on the top of the wall. He noticed Solembum nestled into the crook of her enormous arm. She watched him like an eagle would a mouse.

"Will you be joining us?" He asked, not caring to say it mentally.

_I would never be able to fit in that small meadow. No, I will remain here, and alert you of any news. Have fun, though._

"You too."

Thus, the afternoon continued as Eragon walked out into the forest, with Arya by his side. Little to Eragon's knowledge, Arya was watching him closely from the corner of her eyes. Arya could not help but feel the air around her smolder as she watched the fair young rider. Clenching her fists at her sides, she forced the feelings back into dormancy. When her face was a mask yet again, she tentatively allowed her thoughts back into the front of her mind.

Arya was using her best political mindset as she analyzed Eragon. He was charming, funny, courteous, kind, and loving. He was everything any woman could ever hope for in a husband. He was strong, handsome, wealthy, and had a promising future, and on top of that was a Dragon Rider. Of course, that last reason was why she couldn't let her feelings extend further than friendship.

Eragon was the hop of the whole world. Everyone's lives depended on him defeating the King. With out him the world would be doomed to crumble under the King's merciless fist. She had seen one to many infatuated elves and humans completely lose sense of who they were when they were in love and Arya refused to allow that to happen to Eragon. Even if it meant she was in pain...

It had started slowly for Arya, back when Eragon had announced his feelings for her at the Blood Oath Celebration. It was a slowly growing ember it the pit of her stomach, and every word he said to her or look he gave her blew fresh air onto it, making to grow. She had kindled it unwillingly inside her for months now refusing to let it burst into flames. Every time it threatened to do so, she would douse it with the cold, unhappy facts that surrounded them. Age, status, her mother, the Varden. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, once again running through the facts in her mind... Then she noticed Eragon had frozen in his tracks. Saphira's voice boomed out to them.

_Donne your armor Little Ones. Murtagh is on the horizon with soldiers at his heals._

_ What?! _

_ Yes. I was flying over the country on my way back when I saw him on the horizon, with the glittering armor of thirty thousand soldiers marching below him. Go! Alert Nasuada and the others. Have them gather the Varden and Elves. I will contact Jourmunder and Orik and have them rally their men. There is no time to waste!_

_ Very well. We shall see you soon._ Arya answered her back, and Saphira left their minds.

Together they left the small clearing, at the gates they split with hurried words with Arya off to find the elves and Eragon back to his house, as fast as they could. Once inside, Eragon put on his armor. He took time to infuse the metal with spells and enchantments that he would not have dreamed of before, before setting out for the gates. As he opened the doors, he saw that the happy city had transformed into a battle ready safe point. Citizens ran towards the center of the city, tugging along pets and crying children, while soldiers ran, armor glinting towards the city walls.

He ran into the group, quickly getting to the front. He yelled out "March positions!" The soldiers recognized his voice and made haste to follow the Dragon Rider's orders. They arrived at the wall and he said "Find your commanders with all haste. Murtagh and a company of soldiers are on the horizon. They want the blood of your families on their swords; are you going to let them have it?" He shouted.

The soldiers roared raucously and took off towards their positions. Eragon saw Saphira circling over head. He leaped fifty feet into the air, and she swooped below him. He landed in the saddle, and grinned at the hearty cheer of the Varden as they saw their Dragon Rider take flight. He buckled himself into the saddle and Saphira took him to the main gates where the other commanders stood discussing battle strategy. Eragon looked southwestward and saw Thorn approaching quickly. There were only fifty or so miles between them.

The Varden had mustered in numbers outside of the city, but Eragon could see that they were short almost ten thousand men compared to what Murtagh had brought. _It will be my job, then, to even the odds._ He thought to himself and Saphira. They set down in front of the gates, and Arya, Nasuada, Jourmunder, King Orrin, and his cousin approached him.

"Greetings, Eragon. Are you ready to fight?" Nasuada asked.

"With no great pleasure, yes, I am."

Arya spoke, Eragon was surprised to find sorrow in her voice. "What will you do, when the time comes to kill him, Eragon? Take no pity on him, for the sake of us all."

"I am aware. I will do what I must to protect my loved ones. Well, the ones that are left." He added on darkly and dryly.

Arya too grimaced, knowing he was specifically talking about about her and his cousin. "Be safe."

"You stay safe too." He added so just she could hear _I know it displeases you when I say it, but it would cause me much grief if you were no longer a part of this world. Stay safe. Woil ono. For me._

He pulled out of her mind then, and saluted to Nasuada before Saphira leaped into the air, carrying them towards yet another heartbreak.

_I'm sorry it must be this way, Little One._

_ Don't apologize Saphira. Murtagh never wanted this life, anyway. I will avenge him when I kill the King._

_ You better. I fear that this battle might not go well. Murtagh will be stronger than last time._

_ But so are we. And you never know; we may not even have to fight. Perhaps Thorn will me so overwhelmed by your stunning appearance that he will drown in his own drool._

_ Do not be so foolish, Eragon. It does not suit you._

Eragon just grinned at their attempts to make the other feel better. A grim shroud, however, still fell about them as they neared the troops. Murtagh wheeled away from them, heading perpendicular to the oncoming forces, soaring off towards empty space. _It is clear he wants us to follow him, and we will, but not before we even our odds._

_ Of course._

Saphira swept down above the Empire's soldiers, Eragon's wards protecting them from spears, javelins, and arrows. Eragon unbuckled his legs from the saddle and felt Saphira's grim acknowledgment as he leaped the sixty or so feet from the saddle to the ground. Overhead, Saphira let loose a torrent of blue flames, row after row of the soldiers fell, cooked inside their own armor. Eragon drew his sword, and it burst into flames at his will.

Eragon's mind drifted into a haze, blurring from image to image. A red mist surrounded him, but weather it was blood lust or the quite literal mist of blood he had stirred from his victims veins he didn't know. Slash, stab, lunge, parry, block, slash. The pattern went on and on until at least fifty men had fallen to him and he was surrounded by a wall of bodies. It must have been thousands that they killed before Eragon said "_Enough. The Varden will survive this. We must go meet Murtagh_." Saphira nodded and as Eragon leaped into the air once more, Saphira was there to catch him. She redoubled her already impressive speed, in search of the other rider.

They found him hovering over an abandoned field. No human, elf, dwarf, or urgal could be sensed from almost two miles in any direction. He came to hover in front of his step brother. Neither he nor Saphira missed the looks on their adversaries faces as they took in the changes. Eragon reached for his sword.

Murtagh spoke. "Not yet Brother, not yet. We have things to speak of before you kill me."

Eragon did not speak for a few moments. "You sound as if you know this battles outcome already."

"Because I do, though it won't be much of a battle. We no longer wish to live. Life is no longer sweet, there is nothing left for us."

"Murtagh..." Eragon whispered.

"First though, I have information that might interest you."

"What would that be?"

"The King's strength comes from-"

Eragon cut him off. "The dragon's eldunari."

"Yes. And because of those he-"

"Has gained the power of the deceased dragons."

"Yes. You're rather good at this, aren't you?"

Eragon shrugged. "Anything else?"

"The King plans on striking the Varden himself in a month's time."

Eragon's eyes widened. "That, I did not know."

"Though, once he hears of my death, I can only assume he will speed up his preparations."

"I can assume so. Wonderful. Brother, what has befallen you so that you would wish to die? Certainly it was something horrendous; the last time we spoke, you said life was sweet."

"The King has gained a brutality I have not seen before. Just last week, he killed twenty two servants just for the hell of it. But apparently, they die too easily, so he turns to us. It has only gotten worse. He sends us out across the country with missions dedicated merely to scare the towns people into submission. He wants us to kill indiscriminately, so no one seeks to join you. We no longer wish to live this way."

"I see. Very well. Know, however, that if there were any other option, any way to break the bonds..."

"I know. You are as valiant as ever, Eragon, my brother."

"Step Brother, actually."

"Is that so? Never the less. Do what you must."

"Murtagh, you are a Dragon Rider. I refuse to allow you to die a soldiers death. Fly, be merry with Thorn one last time. Let all your inhibitions go, and be happy. I will lull you into a sleep with magic, and lower you gently to the ground, so your bodies are not tarnished."

"Thank you Eragon. Step or not, I could not have asked for a better member of my family. Rest easy at night, feel no grief or sorrow, for you will have given me the thing that we both want the most." Murtagh said, tears in his eyes.

Eragon bowed his head solemnly. He watched as Murtagh flew through the sky, shouted fiercely for joy, at one with his dragon. Thorn roared happily, and red flames shot from his jaws. Eragon let them have their moment together for what seemed like an eternity, before he murmured those fatal words. He watched Murtagh's eyes droop sleepily, as he pitched forward in the saddle. Thorn's wing beats grew less frequent until he finally stilled, and they began to fall. Tears were in Eragon's eyes as he grasped them with magic, and slowly descended to the ground. He knelt there in grief, and planned to mourn there for quite some time, but a voice in his head forced him into action.

_Er-Eragon. Help me._ Her musical voice was frighteningly weak, but unmistakeable. She sounded near death.

_Arya! Arya, where are you?_

It was so long before she replied that Eragon feared she had perished. Then _I do not know. Near... Near the we-west side of the battle field. My time grows short. Hurry._

_ I'm on my way. Hold on Arya!_

"I'll be back for you, Brother." He murmured, before leaping onto Saphira.

** Chapter 2! Did you like it? I think it might be moving kind of fast, so I'll probably end up editing this to slow it down, but I'm having trouble thinking of some good filler. Anybody have any ideas? Anyone at all? Maybe? Pwease? *Puppy dog face* I'm think along the lines of no updates for this fic until I get 20 REVIEWS. (I know, I hate it when people do this too, but I've also seen the results so...**

**\/ !Review! \/**


	3. Chapter 3

** Please read my uber long A/N at the end of this, it actually is important this time. I promise! Woil ono, all my awesome readers! For you! (Is it 'For Me' or 'For you'? Can't remember. Hmm... Commence the fic and release the hounds!**

She shot off the ground like a rocket, hurtling towards the faint scent of crushed pine, almost completely masked by the blood and gore of the decimated battle field. Eragon sought her out with his mind, locating her in the center of a ring of dead Empire soldiers. He cried out with grief as he really saw her.

Arrow shafts stuck out of her body from almost all angles. Three in each of her legs, two were imbedded deep into the muscle of her right arm, and another seemed to have pierced the tendon of her left. And deep slash wound from a sword had cut across he abdomen, and another from the top of her left shoulder to the middle of her right side ribs. Blood coated her.

Eragon felt tears brim in his eyes as he furiously poured strength into her, to keep her alive while he worked. Her eyes fluttered open. "Eragon." She whispered.

"Don't talk. Save your strength."

She disregarded him. Either that, or she couldn't hear him. "I'm so glad you came."

"Sssh. You'll be fine." He said, but whether to her or himself, he wasn't sure.

It was then that he set to work healing her. He stomach wound was deep, and still bleeding, so he focused on that first. He found himself blushing as he had to shimmy down he leggings slightly to heal the whole wound. She gasped slightly, even in her pain laced stupor, and her hand twitched as if she had the impulse to slap him. "Sorry." He muttered under his breath. It was a deep wound, and he had to use several intricate spells to reattach and regrow all her pierced organs.

Next he moved to her chest wound, which once again had him blushing as he found himself needing to remove the top half of her shirt. Instead of taking the time to remove it, he used a dagger in his belt to slash the shoulders of the shirt, and peeled them down. Arya's full 'chest' was revealed to him, and he ignored Saphira's chuffing laugh as he turned the color of a ripe red apple. He set to work and, with a light sweat on his brow, reattached her arteries, muscle, and tendons.

He breathed a sigh of relief, as her major wounds were healed and she was still alive. The numerous arrows were not nearly as life-threatening as the slash wounds, and he quickly removed and healed them. Once back in her former condition, Eragon channeled even more strength into her, just in case. Last but not least, he used magic to restitch the fabrics of her torn and ripped tunic, more specifically, where he had had to rip it to access her wound. Her breathing was still faint, so to be safe he pumped even more energy into her seemingly frail body. When finished, he picked her up, and scrambled up onto Saphira's back. He buckled her into the saddle, and without a word, Saphira took off in the direction for Murtagh's grave.

They were half way to Murtagh's grave when Arya stirred in front of him. "Wh-What?" Arya seemed then to recognize that she was a few thousand feet above the earth, and gasped, pressing herself back against Eragon. He too was surprised and placed his hands on her shoulders. She seemed to realize then what was going on and she relaxed, also leaning away from Eragon.

She stiffened. "The battle! I was injured..." She looked down at herself, remembering her various injuries. Eragon could see from his place behind her, her ears turn red as she realized what he had done, and _seen_, in the process of healing her. "I see you arrived in time."

"Just barely. You were minutes, seconds, away from dying." His voice broke on the last word. He cleared his throat, and awkwardly continued. "I, uh, apologize for, um... It was necessary to your survival for me to, um..."

Arya, ears flared an even deeper red, and she decided to take pity on him. "Eragon. Cease that gibbering, you sound like an idiot. I forgive you. It's better than being dead." She felt Eragon sigh in relief behind her. Before an awkward silence could enter the air, she asked "Where are we going?"

"To create a grave for Murtagh." He said bluntly.

Arya stiffened, then bowed her head. "I'm sorry for your loss." She reached behind her and placed a comforting hand on his knee.

"Thank you. Though it was not a fight. He gave his life to me. Life was no longer sweet to him, and he was tired of being a tool for Galbatorix. He made an effort to repay all the horrors he has caused by revealing something to me."

"Which was?" She asked, removing her hand and bringing it back to her lap.

"The King plans on dealing a direct blow, himself, on the Varden in a month's time. Though with Murtagh's death, he expects the King to bump up his arrival."

Arya gasped. She was still for a moment, before she cast her head into her hands. "This is awful. The Varden is no where near ready to take the citizens to a safe hold. Do you think you will be able to kill him?"

"I... I don't know. I think I might at least stand a chance but..."

"We will work hard in the next few weeks. I will teach you everything that has been taught to me, as will the other elves."

"I only pray that it is enough. Do you know if the Queen will arrive in time with the other elves to aid in the battle?"

"I'm not sure. When we return to the Varden, I shall contact her."

"Very well." Eragon said, and the conversation ended.

They were silent for another few minutes before they landed where Murtagh and Thorn lay, looking as if they were only sleeping. Eragon leaned forward, ignoring Arya's clenched fists, and unbuckled her from the saddle. He lifted her into his arms and jumped down, setting her on the ground gently, but quickly.

"I am perfectly capable of dismounting myself, Eragon." Her voice was stiff.

"Not when you just almost died, and have barely enough strength to heal a scratch, or, worse, a bone broken from a high fall." He answered equally stiffly. He wasn't in the mood to deal with what he considered 'Diplomatic Pig Dung'.

Arya did not respond as he walked forward to where his fellow dragon rider lay. He bowed his head in grief, not ashamed or embarrassed when a few tears leaked from his eyes. He raised his head, looking at the color of Thorn's scales. Without speaking the words, he summoned all the ruby from the ground for miles in every direction. He then molded it into a solid dome above them. It was ruby all the way through, with no pockets of air. He swirled the darker ruby with the lighter ruby to give it a marbled pattern.

Eragon imbued the stone with almost a hundred wards to protect it from being mined, defiled, or stolen from. He then enchanted the ground around it so that anyone who stumbled across it would be able to pay their respects, but then leave and not remember where they had come from, or what they had seen. In Alagasian, the Ancient Language, Dwarfish, and the language of Urgals, he engraved into the stone 'Here lies Murtagh and Thorn, masters of land and sky. They fought valiantly through many hardships with bravery and courage. They will be missed.'

Eragon stepped back to admire his work, then fell to his knees, head bowed. Tears fell freely from his eyes now. His uncle, his father, his mother, his aunt, his mentors, and now his brother. All in the course of this retched war, all because of the Black King, Galbatorix. He found his shoulders shaking with grief and rage. A hand laid gently on his shoulder and he shook it off. He wanted to be alone, and he was not interested in the false pity or Arya who for all he knew at that moment cared nothing for him. All he had left was Roran...

"Eragon." She spoke his name and waited for a reply. When it did not come, she spoke again, more fire in her tone. "Eragon, do not be so infantile! People die, no matter how much you try to protect them, or how hard you fight to keep them alive. How do you expect to be respected, and how can the Varden expect you to defeat the King when you cannot pick yourself up off the ground?"

Eragon's head was clouded with grief and rage, so he was not in his right mind when he answered. "Well, if I'm so incompetent, why don't you do it Arya? After all you are so much more mature and intelligent and prone to grief and sadness and _emotions_ than I am, I'm sure you would have an easy time defeating the most powerful man in the known lands. To be honest, I'm not sure if I can, or if it can even be done! Why wouldn't it be easier to let it be, eh? I'm not keen on losing more of my loved ones in this wretched war, or at least the few that I have left. Even if half of them would rather I just go away, though I suppose that number isn't nearly as impressive considering there's only two."

Eragon jerked to his feet in a blinding motion, and turned to Arya, face red and streaked with tear lines. Her face for once showed her emotions completely, and he could see shock, and sadness, engraved into her features. He squeezed his eyes shut, then he ran. Arya could see his vague blur as he ran northward, and was at a loss as of what to do. She was silent for a few moments, just staring off into the distance, when Saphira thumped her tail on the ground behind her.

Arya had forgotten she was there, and let out a startled yelp, falling to the shaking ground. She looked up to see the mighty blue dragon towering over her. Saphira had the fires of anger burning in her eyes, and smoke fumed from her nostrils. Her tail whipped from side to side behind her. Arya felt a trill of fear run through her, and she felt the blood run from her face.

_You ignorant fool. _Saphira's voice boomed in her head, easily pushing past her barriers.

_Excuse me?_

_ You heard me elf! I always considered you to be at least mildly intelligent, but you seem to have proved me wrong. How can you be so blind?!_

_ I know Eragon has feelings for me, but-_

_ But when has Eragon been anything but kind to you?_

_ He is always very-_

_ And when has he done anything but think of your welfare?_

_ He always-_

_ And do you not suppose that with all of the death and horrible things he has witnessed and himself gone through, that your age gap in completely irrelevant? _

_ But-_

_ But nothing! You are so stubborn, even more so than Eragon! Do you have even the slightest idea of what you put him through? Of the sleep he loses and the meals he misses because he is too preoccupied brooding over you? He would die for you!_

_ But that's the problem Saphira! Don't you see? You call me the blind one, but what if the King were to capture me? What do you suppose he would do then? Rush headfirst into danger, hmm? Of course I love him! I always have, ever since the Agaeti Blodhren. It's been torturing me. I assumed you had guessed already._

_ I had not. _Saphira's eyes were squinted, as she heavily scrutinized the elf. _Then why don't you tell him? The King is on his way now, he has no time to capture you, and do you not suppose that knowing he was protecting you would give him strength?_

Arya cast her gaze down and away from Saphira, unsure. After this... _I am unsure, Saphira. After what I have said, I'm am not sure of his love at all._

_ But I am. Go, elf, and hurry. I've never seen him so close to breaking before. His burdens are great. He needs you._

_ Will you take me to him?_

_ Nope._ Saphira smirked, and unfurled her massive wings, leaping into the sky and soaring off towards the Varden's camp.

Arya stared after her like a gaping fish. Eragon could be halfway to Ellesmera for all she knew, and likely was, given the pace he held. She sighed deeply, and ran her fingers through her hair, exasperated. She stood straight then, cracking her knuckles at her sides and inhaled deeply, scenting all the life around her. Eragon's trail was faint, but not undetectable. She set off at a steady pace, somewhere between a jog and a sprint.

As Arya loped across the country, she was pleased to find Eragon's scent grow stronger. She guessed he had stopped somewhere. As time wore on, saline mixed in with his musky honey sweet smell, and she began to see the tears not yet dried spattering the ground. She herself felt tears running hot down her cheeks at random intervals. She was unsure of what she meant to do, only that she had to make things right with the Rider.

Then she found him. He was sitting quite alone in a sheltered forest glade, somewhere in the foot hills of the Spine. He was on his knees, shoulders hunched, head in his hands. Saline burned Arya's sensitive nose like a fire. She was sure he had heard her approach, though he did nothing. She stood there in silence before she strode towards him strongly. She knelt before him, and put both hands on his shoulders. When he looked up at her, his blazing blue eyes were half mad.

Her eyes however, were soft and warm and sad, something Eragon had never seen before. It derailed him, and his feverish sobs subsided. Arya moved her hand so it rested on his cheek. Her thumb brushed away a stray tear. She almost laughed at the blush, erratic and patchy, that ran rampant across his face lingering strongly in his ears. She spoke.

"I'm sorry Eragon. For deceiving you. Truly, I am."

"Wh-What do you mean?" he asked, his throat still clogged with tears.

"I'm sorry I kept the truth from you for so long, but now... There is no reason to hide my feelings from you. Eragon, ever since you revealed you feelings for me at the Blood Oath Celebration... I love you."

Eragon's face was struck dumb. He did not speak. He did not move. He did not breath. Then his face broke out into a smile. He brought his arms around to her lower back and crushed her to him. He made no move to kiss her, just to hold her close.

Arya, however, was not quite so prude. She brought her other arm up to his face, and brought her lips to his. Eragon was shocked, and slow to react, but he did react. A warmth spread through him from head to toe. He held Arya more tenderly against him, and moved his lips against hers. They stayed like that, lips harmonizing for several minutes, before they pulled back, breathless.

Sometime during their kiss, Arya had pushed them down, and she was laying on top of him now. He wrapped his arms around her more tightly, and smiled. A completely mad king with horrendous amounts of power and a completely huge Dragon was coming to his 'home' with the intent of killing everybody he knew, but that was OK right now. It was OK because Arya was laying in his arms and she loved him.

He raised into a sitting position and moved her into his lap. Arya stiffened, not used to being handled so closely, and Eragon began to pull away. Arya forced herself to relax and stayed his arm with her hand. She cast her eyes to the forest floor.

"No, it's OK. I'm just not used to begin close to someone."

Eragon laughed dryly. "Well, neither am I. Dragons, sure, but not a person."

"Well, then let me teach you." Arya turned back to him, eyes burning with something Eragon had never seen before smoldering there. She grasped his lips with her own. Eragon had never seen this side of her. He had never seen Arya open herself up to someone. He liked it, regardless of how out of character it was.

They did not know how long they had been away, only that it was dark when they had returned to the Varden. Saphira lay appeared to be sleeping outside the gates of Feinster, but Eragon saw her eye crack open every once and again the watch Nasuada's frantic pacing. As Arya and Eragon entered the torch light, she gasped in relief and rushed towards them. She laid her hands on Eragon's shoulders and shook him lightly.

"Good Gods, Eragon! Where the hell have you been!?" She let out, exasperated. She was, however, quick to collect her queenly persona around her once more.

"I was creating a tomb for Murtagh, and talking with Arya." Saphira let out a scoff behind them, rolling her eyes and shaking her head.

Nasuada noted this and said, her voice guarded, "I see. I'm truly sorry for your loss. Are you well?" She watched him intently, and when his eyes flashed to Arya's, and hers to his, she did not miss the meaning their gaze held. She answered her own question. "I see. Well, Saphira said you had news from Murtagh, but of what sort she wouldn't tell me. That, or your location, either." Understanding flashed in her eyes as she once again brought her gaze to rest on the two elves before him.

"Yes. Galbatorix plans to strike the Varden in two fort nights. Though in account of Murtagh's death, we expect it to be sooner. He could attack tomorrow for all we know." Eragon said, voice grim. He watched as Nasuada paled.

She blinked several times, trying to comprehend what he was saying. She folded her hands in from of her, tapping her index finger against her opposite hand, thinking, for quite some time. Finally, "Are you ready?"

"Considering that we really don't have a choice, I have to be. But yes, I think I have a chance at victory. Besides," Eragon reached out and took Arya's hand, which he was surprised to find she willingly gave to him. "I will not be alone." Saphira wrapped her tail around the couple and lifted them ten or so feet into the air, and at the same time pinning them against each other so the front of their bodies were fully pressed against one another. They both blushed madly, nor could they help a swoon.

_And I will be there as well._

"Of course, Saphira. Well seeing as you are all in good hands, and claws, I suppose I will retire for the night. Sleep well, but wake early. We are going into full battle preparations tomorrow."

"Of course. Sleep well."

Nasuada eyed them, bodies still pinned together, sceptically. She turned from them then and walked into the city, her Night Hawk guard following her closely. Saphira laughed and gently set the new couple on the ground. Eragon and Arya fell to their butts, breathing heavily, recovering from their recently constricted lungs. A few seconds passed before Eragon rose and walked over to Arya, offering her his hand which she took. He easily hoisted her up, and they walked together into the city.

** OK, everybody ready for the collective 'Awwwww'? They're together! Yay! Happy faces! XD XD XD XD XD! So, over Thanksgiving break, I started a new version of this story, which I plan to be posting soon. It's the same up until the battle with Murtagh, except Murtagh steals the green dragon egg in atonement for all of his dastardly deeds. Can you guess who it hatches for? I don't think I'm going to tell you, but I should hope anyone with half a brain cell could figure it out. It's the most obvious person that's in all the fics so no points for creativity. :( And that goes on for uber longer than this one does and isn't as rushed, so tell me what you want me to do? Post them both at one time and have less frequient updates, drop this one and work on that one, or drop that one and continue this one? Super long A/N!!! WOOT! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! **

**!DO IT NAUGH!**


	4. Author Note: New Version

**A/N: OK, so I posted the other version of this story. It's called 'Life After Death V2' (No Duh) so just click on over to my profile to check it out. The first chapter is a huge double-chap at about 7,000 words to get to the point where the story switches over (Though there's about seven paragraphs at the bottom of new stuff, so if you wanna read it, just skip down to the battle with Murtagh). I'm going to continue both stories, or at least try. If it get's to be too hard, I'll likely put one on hiatus, sooo.... yeah! Enjoy!**


	5. Chapter 5

** Here it is! Duh duh dunnnn! I'm not gonna tell you what happens though. I'm just mean like that. But, though it seems like there might not be much left for me to write, this story is an epic, and it extends way past whatever CP is gonna come up with (I can assume). Anyhoozers, here ya go! **

- The Next Morning -

Eragon was not woken by the pleasant feeling of Arya curled into him, or sunlight filtering through his window, but the loud voice of a certain witch who was always where she shouldn't be. He had and Arya had not done anything... inappropriate, and he was thankful for that upon wakening.

"Well, isn't this just precious. The Rider and the Princess. How lovely!"

Arya pulled the blanket up over her eyes and Eragon sat up, his wrinkled tunic falling in an odd way. "Angela? How did you get in? The doors were locked..."

"Humf. Locked doors. I don't see what the use of those things are. If someone was bound and determined to get in, one thin plank of wood would do no good at all." She said.

Eragon did not fail to notice her careful navigation away from his question. "You did not answer my question, thought I assume you meant to do so and I won't get an answer anyways. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Oh, nothing at all. I just caught wind of a new couple in town. I suppose my source was more reliable than I gave him credit for considering the circumstances..." She murmured to herself.

"Solembum?" It would not surprise Eragon if the Werecat had been lounging around the gates last night, or if Saphira had told him.

"You only wish. Now get up and get ready. You have a long day ahead of you. I do believe the King is on his way..."

Arya pulled the blankets down from her face and also sat up. She rubbed her eyes, than turned to Angela. "Thank you for the news, Angela, though it is of the old sort. We're already expecting him."

"Well aren't you quite a know it all? But did you know he was just spotted over Helgrind? I suppose you did not. Now rise, for there might just be a battle today."

Eragon's eyes flew open wide and he leaped over Arya and out of the bed. He jogged over to the boudoir and retrieved a fresh set of clothes. Arya rose from the bed and turned towards the door. "I'll go to my tent and retrieve my things, then meet you at the north gate."

"Of course." He answered. Arya nodded and walked briskly out the door. Eragon turned to Angela. "Excuse me for a moment." He said awkwardly, and shuffled into a wash room. He changed quickly, ignoring what he could have sworn was Angela's tinkering laugh, and his imagination showing her using magic to look through the walls. He walked out of the bathroom clean shaven, bow strung over his shoulder.

He exited the house to find Angela no longer there. He shook his head. _Bursts in like that, then just disappears._

_ What was that Little One?_

_ Angela._

_ I see. Are you on your way?_

_ Yes. I assume my armor is waiting for me?_

_ As well as Arya._

_ Good. Thank you. Are you ready for this._

_ I should hope so._

_ See you soon._

Eragon walked briskly from the house. People called out to him, giving words of encouragement and blessings. He broke into a jog, the pressure on him building. He was going to fight the King... soon. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon. The time had come, and he could only pray that he was ready. Saphira spoke no words to him, but he could feel her presence soothing him. He sighed, and continued to jog towards the gate. He past shops and stalls boarding up their goods, families attached their horses to wagons, crying children loaded up along with wives, and stone faced husbands.

Eragon has a scowl on his face. He couldn't even imagine happy faces, and happy city. And it was all because of him, of the man he was supposed to kill, and that was what he was going to do. He had to for his families sake, for all of those who had died and everyone who had to live through this war. It was his duty, and it was why he was alive...

He had reached the wall, and he looked up to see Saphira perched there. Her scales were bristled, rustling against one another. A steady growl came from her lips. Eragon ran up the wall, aided by magic, until he reached the top. He wasn't surprised to find Arya sitting in the saddle. He walked up and laid his hand on Saphira's foreleg. She looked at him out of one eye and smirked.

_About damn time._

_ Such language from a noble dragon. Your ancestors are probably twisting in their graves._

_ Let them twist, then. It was appropriate, seeing as you took your sweet time._

_ I had a very extenuating mental pep talk to give myself. I'm sorry I can't be 'Oh, I think I'll kill a King today; better go get my armor' like you are. _

_ Well excuse me for rolling with the punches. Now I think Arya deserves some of your attention._

Eragon grinned and turned to the elf sitting sideways, unbuckled, in Eragon's saddle. She was laughing to herself, having heard the conversation passing between rider and dragon. She smiled slightly to him and slid down Saphira's foreleg, landing with a dull 'thump'. She raised from her crouched position to face him. She reached up to his face to move a lock of hair from his eyes.

Eragon spoke. "Are you recovered from the battle yet? You shouldn't go out there if you don't feel well enough to fight effectively."

"I am fine, don't worry yourself. Thanks to your magic I feel as well as I normally do, maybe even better." She smiled and it took Eragon slightly off guard. He was still not used to seeing Arya so open about her feelings.

"Good. Do you know anything about Galbatorix's arrival time?"

Arya turned to the sunrise. Dawn had broken, and she seemed to be counting the hours. "I last heard that he will be visible on the horizon near after mid day."

Eragon let all of his breath out in a huff. He muttered under his breath "So soon." The reality of the situation was about to crash down on him, to drown him, but Saphira broke in.

_Well, it'll do you absolutely no good stand there all day and let your legs get tired. Come have a seat, maybe take a nap. I heard you were rather rudely awoken. _Saphira chuckled.

Arya rolled her eyes and walked, tugging Eragon along behind her by the hand. She sat them in the shade of Saphira's wing, leaning up against her stomach as she sprawled out on the wall like a very large cat. He stomach was warm, and they could hear Saphira hum in happiness as she lay her head down and drifted into a light sleep. Arya turned to Eragon, worried by the trouble in his eyes, and decided to try and distract him.

"What do you plan to do when the war is finished?"

"Don't you mean 'if'?"

"No, when. Like I said." She said, raising one eyebrow, daring him to contradict her.

"Alright. _When_ the war is over, I hope to go back to Carvahall and rebuild mine and Roran's farm."

Arya latched onto this. "How so."

"Well, mainly with magic. I should think that we will buy the land from the families who moved from town or..." His words dropped of unhappily.

Arya bumped his masculine shoulder with her slender one, comforting him. She lay her head on his shoulder. "Keep going. It's nice to think of something other than the war, and you were painting the loveliest image in my mind."

"Sure. Well, I will return to Carvahall, and clear away all the ruble from the old farm house, and use magic to sing forth a brand new cottage. I should think it will have stone and oak and iron wrought into it. There will be seven rooms: three bed rooms, a kitchen, a sitting room, a dining room, and a study. I will make soft wooden floors and engrave the walls with beautiful patterns and designs and colors. I will guild the walls and furniture with gold. Then I will till all of our fields and plant new crops."

"What will we plant?" Arya asked.

Eragon smiled down at her, and took her hand into his, drawing designs on her palm now as he talked. "Many things. I will plant wheat and corn and barley and squash. Also carrots and tomatoes and turnips and potatoes. Then I will rebuild Marian's herb garden and fill it with all sorts of things like rosemary and thyme and basil."

"I will build a sturdy barn and fill it with cows, goats, sheep, pigs, chickens, and ducks. I will buy four horses. I will purchase the finest stallion, gelding, mare, and filly I can find. Two to plow the fields and then some to ride and take into town. We can sell the offspring."

Arya had closed her eyes and she sighed with happiness. In front of her closed eyes she saw rolling mountain hills in autumn, ripe with a bounty of plants and animals, but one thing was missing. "Offspring. What about children?"

Eragon squeezed her hand, grinning. "They will be the luckiest in the world. We will teach them magic and how to work the land. We will show them the magic in the world. They will wear the finest clothes and have the best play things. They will be the envy of the whole town. Then when the harvest comes we can load up the wagon with our fine horses and go to Terim to sell it all, and of course Saphira would be there to make sure we get the very best deals. Have I ever told you about the traveling merchants who came through Carvahall?"

Arya shook her head.

"Oh, they were marvelous. They would come in sleighs and carriages and wagons, hundreds. They would set up their tents outside of the village, and also their stalls. They would sell all sorts of things, like rare gems and foreign weapons and good foods. Every year my uncle would give Roran and I a few coins to buy whatever struck our fancy. It was a marvelous time. In fact, I almost sold Saphira's egg to the jeweler, and would have done so if the man had had any clue what it was. Almost gave it to Sloan too, good thing I didn't though."

"Yeah, I'd say so." Arya murmured, shaking her head slightly.

"Hey, I was a small town farmer in the middle of a war. When a weird blue rock magically zaps into a haunted mountain range, it generally doesn't bode well."

Saphira chuckled behind them. Suddenly her head jerked up, rousing the two elves. _He arrives. I can feel it. Eragon, do you sense it?_

He could. It was running white hot through his veins, sending a tingle across"Yes. I can. Arya, could you please run to the guard and have them activate the war drums? Galbatorix approaches."

"Of course... Eragon." She said his name is a way he had never heard before. It was loving, and sad, and fearful, and... passionate.

Eragon turned to meet her, but only saw her bright emerald eyes, brighter than they had been for a while now, illuminated with a flame she had finally brought to life. She wrapped her arms around his neck. She crushed her lips to his with a furious abandon. Eragon was immediately swept up into a flurry of emotions ranging from confusion to lust. Eragon's hands had just begun to roam over her stomach when she pulled back, resting her forehead on his broad chest.

"You better stay safe. You better come back to me alive, or I will be so angry with you..." She said, her tone joking but her face serious.

"The same goes for you. Please try to stay out of the battle. I don't know how long I'll be fighting him, and if you get hurt like that again, I don't know if I'll be able to get to you in time." He said, deadly serious.

"Oh, what a shame for you. I heard it was a rather good show last time." She laughed as his ears turned red in remembrance of all the things he had seen. A small smile crept to his face and he cocked his head.

"When I was healing the wound on your stomach, I had to shimmy down your leggings. Your hand twitched and rose from the ground for a moment. I was under the impression you wanted to slap me."

"I vaguely remember that." She said, her voice joking.

Eragon marveled at her radical personality change before Saphira broke in. _Oh, yes, maniacal king flying here now, hell bent on all of our deaths. Do please continue your mushy small talk._

_ Sorry. _Both elves answered at once and their faces turned stoic. Eragon held Arya at an arms length for a moment before crushing her to him.

"I love you. Stay safe. Woil ono."

"I love you as well, and for the love of who ever is out there, stay safe. Woil ono."

The elves nodded to each other and then turned in different directions and jogged away. Eragon ran up the ramparts and yelled with a magically enhanced voice "The King is here! He approaches!" It seemed then that the Varden exploded into a flurry of movement, like someone had kicked over an anthill. As soon as the words were out of Eragon's mouth, the war drums began their slow, monotone beat.

Eragon was attempting to put on the last piece of his armor, and having trouble at doing such, when a pair of slender hands brushed his aside. Eragon turned to see Angela behind him. She finished fastening up his armor and turned him completely to face him.

"I wondered where you had gotten off to." Eragon commented.

Angela ignored his words. "Don't flub up please? For your dear old friend Angela?"

Eragon laughed dryly. "I was under the impression that I was one of your experiments or play things. You flatter me."

"Well, there's no reason why you can't be both. Now get on your dragon and fly, Shadeslayer. I can feel it in my bones that he approaches."

"As can I."

"Be this the last time we speak, Eragon, I want you to know something. The people of Palancar Valley are all the descendants of King Palancar. Royalty and the ability to rule runs through their veins strong and true. They are just and strong and wise. When the time comes, you would do well to advocate for a true King."

"Surely you don't mean me?"

"Of course not. You are not of Palancar Valley. But I won't tell you the right choice because it's just so much fun to watch you muddle it out. Toodles." With that, Angela whirled away from him and stalked to the wall facing the open lands, where she proceed to leap down. Eragon raced to the edge to make sure she had not harmed herself, but when he looked down she was not there. Though he could have sworn he heard her tinkling laugh drift along the wind. He shook his head and the quirky witch.

_It is time Eragon._ Her voice rang through his head clear like a bell. He nodded and leaped into the saddle. He slowly strapped himself in, realizing that this could very well be the last time he did so. He was forced then to accept the reality that he could very well die. It was a distinct possibility that he would not walk away from the battle. He clenched his teeth and shut his eyes as Saphira leaped from the wall into the air. She gained altitude rapidly until Eragon could see for miles in many directions. It was then that he saw Galbatorix.

Shrukian was enormous, though Eragon could not tell it he was larger than Saphira or not. The evening sun glinted dangerous off of his scales, and with Eragon's eyes he could see Galbatorix easily in in his spike armor, as well as he confident smirk he wore on his face. As he drew nearer though, and the gap in the size of their dragons became more apparent, his smirk faded.

Saphira probably outweighed Shrukian by four tonnes. She was much longer than he, and taller, and though Shrukian had more muscle to him, Saphira was stronger because of how she had been magically effected. Eragon drew his sword. Galbatorix's force of soldiers had just appeared over the horizon now. Eragon's eyes flickered to the huge company, with easily seventy thousand soldiers in it.

Then Galbatorix spoke. "Hello farm boy." His words were chilled and they slunk through the air like a deadly poison.

Eragon did not deem him worthy of a reply, as his vision began to cloud red with anger. In every second that passed he saw all the lives he had seen taken and taken himself, all because of the man in front of him. The was infuriated.

"Well be discourteous then. I can see your simple raising and life among these heathens has dulled you manners. Oh well. It can be fixed. Come and join me, _Shadeslayer_. Together we can dispose of this resistance and the unholy creatures that populate it. We can bring peace to the land again. Join me, and I might be able to forgive your killing of my favorite servant." The King extended his hand. A small but kind smile was placed on his face.

"I would soon die than join you. All the pain you've caused, all the lives you've ended. Garrow, Murtagh, Oromis, Galedr, BROM! You **MONSTER**!!!" Eragon roared this, his voice so feral even Saphira blinked, surprised by the ferocity there. She charged forward, flames roaring from her jaws. She grappled with Shrukian while Eragon fought with the King. Below them the sounds of the Varden reached them. People yelled out for Eragon and threw curses at the King.

Saphira surged to where Shrukian hovered and they tore viciously at each other. Saphira's long claws tore at the black dragon's skin, and he roared in pain as her teeth took out a chunk of flesh from his shoulder. As hard as Shrukian tried, he could find no hold compared with Saphira's speed and agility, and her strength was nothing to scoff at either.

Meanwhile, Eragon and the King were at each other with their swords. Eragon had considerably raised his wards protecting him before the battle, and however hard the King tried, he could not seem to land a blow on Eragon, though the blue rider was having the same difficulties. Eragon swung ferociously at Galbatorix, but he could not land a blow on the king. Where ever he struck, he seemed to hit the greased edge of a shield, as his blade slid harmlessly away.

It was many moments of this useless battering until finally, miraculously, Eragon broke through the King's wards like he was shattering a pane of glass. His sword bit deep into Galbatorix's shoulder, and the King bared his teeth in a feral grimace, hissing his pain through clenched teeth. He spoke then, his voice high pitched with the true face of his madness leaking through. "You, you kill my rider. My rider. And you expect me to just walk away. Then you have the nerve the break through my barriers? I expect your going to kill my dragon, eh? Again?! You're just like all of the others! But I took care of them, and I'll do the same thing to you!"

It was then that the King hit Eragon's mind. He had immobilized Eragon, but he himself was also rendered motionless as Eragon fought back. It was all their dragons could do to lower their riders safely to the ground, where they braced their legs and aided in all the ways that they could. Eragon could feel Galbatorix searching his entire consciousness for any weak point. Though he was disappointed to find not a weak point but something else. Eragon's barriers were strong, and the only thing he saw was a beautiful elf. She had long dark hair and beautiful emerald eyes. Her skin was alabaster white and smooth. Eragon would not give in.

An hour had passed, and the men were sweating. It was a relentless battle of the minds until finally someone faltered. It was the scream of a child. It was high pitched and scared and in pain. Eragon's focus was for a split second taken from his battle, as his instincts told him to help who ever needed him. His mind had long ago been trained to help, to heal, and to save. But now... The King pulled back his probe and gathered it for a crushing blow.

"You see?!" His voice was deranged. "This is why you couldn't get anywhere! Your kindness has been your down fa-" The King's eyes rolled back in his head, as the pain of Eragon used all of his force to break through his barriers.

Eragon found himself in a strange world. It was dark, with no music and no life. It was misty and foggy and clouded with smoke and fog. This man was truly insane. Eragon immobilized the King's body and thoughts so he couldn't use magic. Eragon spoke to him. _Why? How? How could you destroy the riders like you did. Because of our own folly, you destroyed them. You caused all of this pain... _Eragon played back all of the suffering he had ever witnessed, including his own as he watched his uncle and his father slowly die painful deaths. The pain of Durza's wound and When Arya broke his heart and the Blood Oath Celebration. He pulled out of the Kings mind.

Galbatorix was still broken down on his dragon's back, immobilized. His eyes were wet with tears. "You don't deserve to live. Life is to good for a monster like you." Eragon muttered under his breath. "Deyja." And just like that, the Black King, killer of the riders, Galbatorix and his enslaved dragon, Shrukian, died.

** Don't fear, it's not over yet! This isn't even half of the story here. There's more on the way. But if you like stories with plots, leave it off here, cause everything else is just gonna be about Eragon and Arya's life in Carvahall, though maybe I'll get through that and add in some more dragons. Not sure yet... Anyway, I hope you all checked out 'Life After Death V2'! I think you'll like it. How do I know this, you ask? I'm reading your mind! (You're thinking about tacos, right? I am. Mmmmm. Taaccoooos. *Drool*)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Please don't eat me. I've been distracted by the splendors of Winter Break. Two full weeks of sleeping. Sigh... Well, read on!**

The battlefield was dead silent as Shrukian fell to the ground. The thud sent tremors through the ground under Eragon's feet, but he did not flinch; only bow his head as the last living dragon died. Saphira did the same. After a moment, the field was still silent as both forces had stopped fighting to view the spectacle, Saphira reared on her hind legs, flared her wings, and roared, spitting a jet of blue flames towards the heavens.

The Varden broke out into cries of relief and joy and elation. Eragon fell to his knees. "We did it Saphira... He's dead."

_It does not seem to be true, though I feel a great deal of closing. As if after all the pain we suffered, and all of those who died... we might have finally made it right._

Eragon nodded and rose, drawing his sword one last time. He stabbed the King once through the heart, then decapitated him. He reasoned then that if there were any spell the King had placed on himself to resurrect himself, he wouldn't be able to. He turned to the sound of footsteps, and saw the whole Varden running towards him, with Arya and the other elves at it's head. Even the soldiers were with them.

Eragon laughed a dry laugh, half mad with relief, and held up the King's head. He received an even louder shout from the Varden. By now the elves had reached him. Eragon knees were wobbly and unreliable as he stood there. Sweat beaded on his brow and his vision blurred. _It's over... we did it... it's over... _Then he saw Arya. Arya had blood on her shoulder and face, but Eragon could smell that it was not her own. As soon as she reached him, he enveloped her in his arms and crushed her to him. She in turn wrapped her arms around him and buried her head in his chest. A few tears leaked from her eyes.

"I was so worried." She whispered.

"There was no need for that. I was worrying enough for the both of us."

Arya laughed dryly. By now the rest of the Varden had reached them. Eragon could hear in the back of his head that they were all cheering his name. He grinned and stepped back from Arya. He reached to the ground where he had set the King's head, and held it up. The people surrounding him cheered, seemingly going mad. The noise was so loud, that it drowned all else out. It was so loud in his ears that he squinted back against it, but still beamed. It was thunder booming right next to his ears.

Then, drowning out even the Varden, Arya's voice rang in his head. _But now we have nothing to fear. _Eragon could feel her smoldering emotions through the link, and he grinned. He placed on hand on her lower back and leaned in. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and when their lips met, fireworks went off in their minds. Arya grinned against his lips as the Varden let out wolf whistles and cat calls. Eragon could swear he heard Roran and Baldor above all else.

When they broke apart, Saphira roared once again, flaring her wings towards the sky and letting loose a jet of flames. Instead of flinching back like they normally did, the crowd in front of him thundered right along with her. He saw Nasuada along with Orik and Orrin at the inner circle beaming up at him. Eragon climbed onto Saphira's back so everyone could see him. The crowd quieted before him and he used magic to amplify his words.

"The King is dead! The black scourge upon this land is no more, and Alagasia is a free land. Let us live on without fear of cruelty or tyranny or injustice. Tonight we shall feast and be merry with one and all, tomorrow work begins once again to spread the news and return to our long awaited homes. But for now, let us return to Feinster!"

With more raucous cheers, the men and women returned to the city preparing the feast and celebration. Eragon helped Arya into the saddle and Saphira launched them into the sky. Arya leaned back completely against him, and he smiled happily. Eragon let his thoughts wash over her, and waited patiently for her to allow him into her mind. He could feel her indecision and was about to pull back when she dropped her barriers.

Eragon was astounded by the clarity of her thoughts, and of how she finally felt about him, or maybe always had. The only thing she could express was a love as deep as his, and their minds rolled together in harmony and pure happiness, much like the spirits they met outside of Eastcroft had.

They were jostled out of their thoughts when landed on the ground. Eragon looked at Feinster with delight. The smoke from hundreds of cooking fires already rose high above the walls. The marble and granite seemed to shine even brighter, as if it was attuned to the people's feelings inside. Saphira set them down outside of the walls. She said she would be flying above. Eragon knew she wanted to take part in the festivities, and he promised to looked for some kind of open space big enough for her. She nudged him with her muzzle, and lept back into the air.

Eragon and Arya walked side by side through the gates of the city. The guards there bowed deeply to Eragon and he smiled at them. Inside the great walls, Eragon was amazed to see the life that had imbedded itself into the city. Bright colors; reds and oranges and yellows and blues and greens, hung from every surface. People were wearing their best clothes and children laughed freely as they ran through the streets. Stalls had appeared along the streets, selling everything from Meat pies and pastries and stews and fruits, to jewelry, ale, clothing, weapons, fabrics, and even animals. They passed Angela who was eying a snowy white owl enviously, reaching for her coin purse.

"Hello, Angela." Arya said happily.

"Ah! Hello, Argetlam, Drottingu." She said said in her usual perky voice.

"Thinking of buying that bird, eh?" Eragon said, pointing to the owl.

"Well, I wanted to. He is just so lovely and it's be nice to have a companion with at least mild intelligence. Solembum excluded of course. Mice make for horrible conversation, and tortoises are so dull. But look at this fine fellow. So nice and vibrant. I think I would name him Sir Edwinton."

Arya cocked her head to the side. "Well, I hope your final decision proves fruitful. Will you be coming to the celebration tonight?"

"Possibly. Though now that the King has died things are going to be so boring around here."

Eragon rolled his eyes. "Now wouldn't that be so unfortunate. Heaven forbid anyone gets a wink of peace these days."

"I know! The whole concept makes me sleepy."

Eragon shook his head. "Well, have fun with Sir Edwinton. Maybe we'll see you later."

"Perhaps." She said, turning back to the owl.

When they had walked a ways and were out of her hearing range Eragon said "She's an odd woman."

"She always has been." Arya said with a laugh.

They arrived at Eragon's house and entered together. Arya didn't bother to conceal their entrance this time. She didn't care, it didn't matter. She smiled. The stood in the small living room and Eragon flicked his hand in the direction of a couch. On it appeared a few stacks of tunics and dresses. Arya laughed.

"Eragon. What poor family is going to go get dressed tomorrow and find their closets empty?"

"No one. These are some from my own collection and some made by magical means." He said smirking.

"Are you trying to tell me you just fabricated dozens of regal tunics and leggings with a snap of your fingers?"

"Well it wasn't easy. I was conjuring up the words ever since we left Angela. It was a quite extensive spell, what with gathering the materials by scrying places I've been, harvesting them, spinning the wool, coloring them, and then stitching it all together. Not to mention sending them here. I hope there's one you like. There's also a few dresses, you know, just in case." Eragon had never seen Arya anywhere near a dress, considering she was mostly surrounded by warrior men and lords. But still...

Arya smiled. "I see. Tell me, are there no limits to your magical strength?" She said, stepping towards the clothes and beginning to sort through them.

"I'm sure there are, and when I do reach them, I'm sure it won't be pleasant. Still, I'm going to try and reach them."

"Why would you do that if you already know you're strong enough to accomplish anything you wish?"

"Mainly curiosity. But there are things I would like to accomplish if I can."

"Like what?" Arya said, holding up a green tunic appreciatively.

"Think of all the things no one has ever been able to do because of lack of strength. Raise cities from the ground, go back in time, resurrect the dead... And now I have all of this and I barely know what to do with it. I could accomplish so many things..." His voice trailed off with his thoughts.

Arya looked at him, concerned, but understanding. "You're thinking of Brom? And Oromis and Garrow?"

"Yes... It's my fault they died, what kind of person would I be if now that I may have been given the power, if I didn't at least try to bring them back?"

"An intelligent one. Eragon they died so that you could kill Galbatorix, and you did. Their work is done, and their legacy will live on forever in you. Not to mention, a living person. You cannot create a life without taking one."

"I know... But still." Eragon wasn't going to give up.

"What are you thinking?"

"Nothing. I promise I won't try anything without making sure I know exactly what I'm doing, and of course, without running it by you first." He grinned.

"Good." She smiled up at him. "Now, which one do you like better?" She held up three things. One was a goldenrod yellow tunic paired with honey brown leggins, then there was an emerald green corset to go over a plain white shirt with dark brown leggins, then there was a sapphire blue dress, embroidered with gold trimmings.

Eragon looked at all of the pieces, grinning. Though he liked the color of the dress, as it reminded him of Saphira, dresses didn't really suit her. And he knew her favorite color was green... "The green one." He said.

The green corset was made of stiff fabric, laced up the front with black leather and swirled with dark green fabric in random, but intricate and very beautiful designs. On the top, there was white fabric rimming it with a gold thread sewn in delicate pattern resembling leaves falling from the sky. The white shirt had an wide neck, so it would only cover the edges of her shoulders, and was tailored to her size so it hugged her skin. It was clear that the shirt was made to show off the corset, and the corset made to show off her 'chest'. The dark brown leather appeared to have been expertly tanned, and was as soft as silk to the touch.

"Ah. I see your game. Trying to make the other men jealous?" she joked, lifting one eyebrow.

Eragon laughed lightly and came up behind her. "Of course not, but it is a nice bonus that you look so lovely. You could be covered in bloody armor and still make the men swoon."

Arya blushed, most of it retained in her pointed ears. "Thank you. It is lovely. What will you be wearing?" She gestured to the clothes.

Eragon looked over them. "I wasn't sure who I dress according to, my dragon, for this party is going to be, unfortunately, at least partially thrown in our favor. Or to my date."

Arya blinked a few times. "Are you sure that's what you want the public to see me as?"

"I know it feels wrong to just let go of secrecy and illusion, but the King is dead. And I presume your mother will approve."

"I should hope so, or she's going to be well out of luck." Arya said with a small smile.

_What do you think?_ He asked Saphira.

_Find a green tunic and add some blue to it, or vice versa. Maybe throw in a little gold or maybe some silver, I don't know, or particularly care. I won't even be there._

_ What ever you say, Saphira. But I am planning on asking Nasuada if she can host the banquet outside so you can join us. I can imagine you would be sorely pressed to pass up on all of the mead that will be there._

_ Please do that._

Eragon laughed. _Alright. Hopefully I'll see you soon. _

_ Yes, hopefully indeed._

Eragon turned back to Arya with a smiled on his face. "She says wear one that has both colors." He said in a slightly mocking voice.

"Oh, for heavens sake-" She saw the argumentative look in his eye when she said 'heaven' and said quickly "It's a figure of speech. Regardless, just pick one. Wear blue. Heaven forbid we become like you cliched humans and go around showing each other off and claiming each other through our outfits."

"You know very well that I-"

"Am not entirely human." she said mocking his voice. "But that's how you were born and how you will die, if you ever choose to. This whole festival is being held in your's and Saphira's honor, and you have to represent her some how if she can't attend."

"Fine. You're right. But I was thinking of asking Nasuada to host it outdoors, on the western wall, so we could see the sea and not the bodies of the last few battles."

"I suppose dead bodies wouldn't exactly add any good ambiance. I hope she agrees; many people would be sorely put out if they weren't able to get drunk with a dragon." She smiled slightly at her own wit.

Eragon smiled because she was smiling, her mood radiating out of her. He had never seen her this happy. "Indeed. Well, you're extraordinarily joyous tonight."

"And why shouldn't I be? The King is dead, the land is free, the war is over, I can finally have my life back, and now I can finally have you."

Eragon leaned in a kissed her, both of them smiling into the lips of the other. How ever if was a short kiss, lacking the heat and passion their first had held, but it was still enough to make them tingle. Arya broke it off.

"You need to get dressed."

"Yes ma'am." Eragon said with a sloppy salute.

Arya just raised an eyebrow and ushered him into the bathroom with her hands. Eragon grabbed a pair of black leather trousers, his royal blue tunic, and a white under shirt. It wasn't skin fitting and revealing like Arya's, but was looser with more excess fabric that made in puff out around his wrists. He quickly changed into that and used magic to shave off his stubble. He emerged from the wash room, his body literally glowing with his magic use as the energy radiated and revolved around him. It wasn't a completely visible aura, but it was noticeable enough that it made Arya smile again.

"What are you thinking?" Eragon asked, walking up to her, hands in his pockets.

"Oh, I don't know. I think this relief that the war is over has me in shock. I can more easily be happier now, I can feel things better. Ever since the King hit the ground, I can't help but think about the future, and all of those wonderful things you were speaking of."

"A simple farmers life would really please you? Why not a palace in a large city, or a whole capital named after you. Actually, I'm fairly sure I would be able to convince Nasuada to rename Alagasia after you." He said with a crooked smile.

Arya just shook her head, anger flashing in her eyes. "I've spent the last eighty years trying to ignore my noble heritage, working as a simple elf undermined in a society of humans, choosing to go unnoticed until now and you would think that would please me?" her tone was biting.

Eragon thought to himself _Ah, there she is. For a second, I thought the Arya I had grown to love had left._ He smiled slightly, trying to pacify her. "Of course not. I know you feel a deep love for Ellesmera, and for the natural world. I know nothing would please you more than to be surrounded by forests and plants and creatures and family. I know you would like somewhere were you could be peacefully left to your studies and hobbies without messengers and nobles and people in general barging in a interrupting you. And now that the war is over, you can do that, and I know you would like nothing better than to settle down on a peaceful little farm in Carvahall."

Her anger melted at his kind words. "I'm glad you know me so well, and I can't wait."

"Me either, but for now, we must go find Nasuada."

"You go on. I'm going to scry my mother and talk with her about everything. Including our plans. It's possible that they might be able to arrive in time for the festivities. I'll meet you at the party later."

"Alright." He leaned in and kissed her softly on the forehead, than walked backwards out the door, so he could watch her as long as possible as she stood there. She simply smiled at him, and waved him off with the hand that wasn't holding her dress.

Outside of the house, Eragon breathed deeply in, bringing as much air as he could into his lungs. A huge smile stretched across his face, one he couldn't hide or rein in, even, he suspected, if his life depended on it. He walked down the crowded city streets, graciously accepting handshakes and smiles. He was almost at Nasuada's pavilion when he passed a small stall. The man standing behind the booth was scraggly, which contradicted the wares before Eragon.

On the table, set on a silk cloth, were small but very beautiful pieces of jewelry. There were rubies and emeralds and nuggets of gold and silver. There were blues stones and orange stones and purple stones as well. Eragon approached the booth slowly, patting his pocket for his coin purse. One certain piece had caught his eye.

It was masterfully crafted, of that he was sure. It glimmered hundreds of different shades, which he could appreciate more truly now due to his eyes. It hung on a silver chain, each ring of silver encased in the other. He could see the weld marks, and he knew that the piece had been hand crafted. But what caught his eye was the stone. It was a vibrant green emerald. It had a tear drop shape, but the truly remarkable part of it was the veins running though it. They were a lighter green, giving it the look and color of a leaf. Surrounding the stone were three diamond orbs, perfectly smoothed, and one orb of jade. It was gorgeous.

He spoke to the man. "Hello, there."

"Kingslayer, my humble greetings." He said, bowing deeply.

Eragon smiled but waved him up. "Please, for now I am just a customer. Tell me, how much will you take for this emerald pendant?" Eragon pointed to it.

"Sir, you have a keen eye, and an expensive one as well. This is easily the finest piece I own. It was mined, smelted, and crafted by monks on the island of Nia. It stands at four-hundred crowns." The man blushed slightly and looked at his feet, as if he were ashamed to be giving a dragon rider such a huge price. Though the price was appropriate, and even though the King was dead and things would be easier, he had a family to feed.

"I would expect nothing less for something so beautiful. Of course. Just a moment please." Eragon pulled out his coin purse and began counting out the crowns, grinning at the look on the astounded man's face. When Eragon had counted out four-hundred crowns, he handed them to the man who was eager to give him the necklace.

"Thank you, Sir." The stall keeper said.

"No, thank you."

"If we never meet again, Kingslayer, I want you to know how much you have done for my family, and if you ever fall in need, search for Isman Fellinsson. We would me honored to assist you." The man bowed again.

Eragon rested his hand on the man's shoulder. "Thank you, Isman. I hope we meet again, though maybe not under such circumstances."

The man nodded, and Eragon walked away.

**I can has a cookie? You can has a cookie... if you REVIEW! VIRTUAL COOKIES! Mmmmmm... Cookies. *Drool***


	7. Chapter 7

**I'm not feeling well today, so being home alone with NOTHING to do, I figured I might as well update, considering I've pretty much virtually died...**

.:: Nasuada's Pavilion ::.

"Greetings, Kingslayer." Nasuada said to Eragon as he was admitted into her tent.

"Greetings, Lady Nightstalker." He said, bowing slightly.

Nasuada's eyes were twinkling with joy. "You did it."

"I still don't think it's hit home yet." Eragon said with a sheepish grin. "I don't know what I'll do when I don't have to fly off to battle every other week. I fear I will get terribly bored."

"Better bored than dead."

Eragon shrugged smiling. "Anyway, I was wondering where you were planning on holding this festival."

"In the main court yard in the very center of the city. Most people have already began to pack up for their homes, so it should be large enough to hold the people who wish to stay."

"Well, I was wondering if maybe we could have it on the west side of Feinster, outside the walls, so Saphira might be able o join us. There will be a lovely view of the ocean."

Nasuada blinked a few times, than brought her hand up to here forehead. "My deepest apologies, Eragon. I'm ashamed to say that I had forgotten Saphira's size in the heat of victory."

"Of course there is no offense. I forgot who I _was_ after ward, so there is no need to apologize."

"And, of course, your wish shall be granted. I will have the set up crews redirect immediately." Nasuada called out. "Jarsha!"

The young boy jogged into the room. "My Lady?"

"Go to the men setting up for the festival in the court yard. Tell them the location has been moved to outside the city, on the side of the southern wall."

"Yes Ma'am." The boy said, departing quickly from the room.

Eragon watched the boy leave, then bowed. "Thank-"

"There is no longer a need for you to be so formal Eragon. The King is gone, so the Varden is no more. I am just a ordinary woman once more."

Eragon smiled. "You will never be merely ordinary, and I will always bow to people I respect."

"I'm glad to hear it. But, I contradict myself. There is one last thing that the Varden will do. You are free of duty as of now, but i'm going to send a team to scour Galbatorix's castle. What, in your opinion, would you like us to do? And who do you believe would make a good King?"

"Has Orrin declined the position?" Eragon asked, confused.

"Yes. He says one small country is enough trouble, and he doesn't want to deal with the unstable nature of Alagasia. Also, if this King were to become maniacle or maybe one after him, there would be someone to oppose him once again. Well, that's his logic at least."

Eragon chuckled. "For one as young as he, he sure is lazy. Ah, well, in order: Spread Galbatorix's riches out among all of Alagasia, the Elves, the Urgals, and the Dwarfs. Make sure everyone get's their share. Find the last egg, and take it among the people once again. Find the Dragon's Eldunari and take them to the elves; they will care for them. And, as for the new King..."

Eragon paused. He racked his mind for people who would make a good leader. Someone who was just and fair; someone who knew the difference between betraying and order and saving lives. Someone who knew when justice was needed and when it wasn't, and knew how to deliver it. They needed a wise, brave, strong person whom everyone looked up to. Someone who would not become pig headed, greedy, or selfish; someone truly noble. He could think of only one, though he knew Nasuada would see it as biased.

"I- I... First let me explain my reasoning before you assume-"

"I think Roran would make a good King, too." She said in a small voice.

Eragon sighed with relief. "The people respect him, he's a good brave warrior with a good head on his shoulders. He knows how to rally his people and lead them through hard times." Eragon said with a sure voice.

"That was my reasoning as well. Do you believe the people will agree?"

"That the Varden's greatest warrior and blood relative of Eragon Kingslayer should be King? There will be no competition. I just hope no one would see my input in the matter and think that Roran had an unfair advantage."

"I believe that once we put his case before the council, they will agree without my mentioning anything of your opinion. It is simply a back up option."

"Well, I'm glad I could help. Should I alert Roran of his candidacy?"

"if you would. I hope Roran would like to be King. I'm not sure who else would be able to fill his shoes, should, he refuse."

"Oh, he'll hate the idea of not being in Carvahall. He won't like it one bit, but he'll do it. He'll do it for Katrina and for Alagasia. If they want him to be King, he will choose so in a heart beat."

"I hope you're right. One last thing: When do you plan to leave for Carvahall?"

"Hopefully, tomorrow, or at the latest, three days."

"Will you be needing any supplies? I would be more than happy to supply you with anything you might need."

"No, but thank you. Saphira can get us their and I can bring our things to Carvahall using magic-"

Nasuada cut him off. "_Our_ thing_s_?" She said putting extra emphasis on the plural.

Eragon flushed slightly. "Well, Arya will be accompanying me."

Nasuada had a wickedly amused look in her eye. "Of course she will. Well, I'd hate to keep you away from your own party. Go. Enjoy yourself. And thank you Eragon. Truly. It has been a pleasure to meet and fight beside you and I hope our paths cross again."

"Why does it sound like you're saying good bye."

"Becaus eI am. Oh, yes, I know we'll see each other off, but we won't have a chance to say goodbye in private."

Eragon smiled. "Of course. I, as well, have enjoyed working beside you. Maybe you would come see us at the farm some time?"

"I would like nothing more."

Eragon smiled and stood. "Well, I should be off."

"Yes." Was all Nasuada said as she saw him out of the tent.

Eragon was surprised to see how quickly the set up teams had been able to relocate the party to outside, and even in their short time frame, the result was beautiful. Blodhgarm's elves had obviously been helping a fair deal. The ground had been cobblestoned with smooth white stones. Impressions in the ground had been filled with crystal clear water, then a wide stone wall surrounded the tiny pools to keep out the drunks and double as a comfortable bench.

Strings had been tied above the reach of the humans from anything available; tree branches, sign posts, wagons, and even other strings. On those strings hung a labyrinth of lanterns holding gently flickering candles. The tiny flames illuminated the area in a soft, warm glow and cast the most beautiful glittering reflections down onto the water. The ocean could be seen, heard, and smelled to the west of them, and a few bards and musicians were playing a wordless tune utilizing a flute, a harp, and a viol (**A/N: It's like a cello, but all middle-aged**).

The sounds reminded him strangely of elvish music and Eragon wandered at Blodhgarm's influence in the music as well. The clearing was not boisterously loud as Eragon had anticipated, but as he came into view, it became so. A hearty cheer was let out, and people rushed forward, some offering gifts and praises and some even groveling at his feet. Eragon laughed and smiled, asking those on the ground to rise and declining every gift offered to him.

He called out to Saphira. _Where are you?_

_ Above._

_ Well, when you decide to grace the rest of us with your presence, watch out for all the strings. I'm not sure how far they extend, but it would seem that they are only over the very center of the clearing, near the ponds. Anywhere else and you should be fine._

_ Thank you for the warning. I'll be there shortly._

Eragon could tell she was hiding something from him, but he let her have his fun.

Turning back to the party, Eragon walked over to where a long buffet was stacked high with meat and steaming vegetables. Kegs of ale and whiskey had been laid on the ground, but Eragon shied away from those. He refused to make a fool of himself in front of all of these people. A name called out to him from behind.

"Oy, Kingslayer! Did your grandmum pick out that outfit for you?"

The clearing fell quiet for a moment, before Eragon turned laughing towards the familiar voice. "Sorry, cousin. Not my grandmum, your mother picked this out for me. I rather like it, actually."

The tension dissolved immediately as Roran and Eragon stepped forward to embrace each other quickly. Roran stepped back and looked over his cousin. "You look well. Not even a scratch. Is that all your magic and wizardry's doing?"

"Thank you for all of the faith in me. And no, I didn't even have to heal myself, thanks to Saphira's excellent flying skills. How about you. Are you well?"

"Well enough. I was told you had something to tell me?" He asked quizzically, and clearly confused.

Eragon grimaced. "Uh, yea." Eragon cleared his throat. "Some council members, Nasuada, and I believe that you should take on the position as King of Alagasia." Eragon waited for Roran to react by yelling or shaking or punching, but instead he just stood there.

It was silent for a few long moments before he spoke. "Well, shit."

"Excuse me?"

"Do I have any choice?"

"Yes and no. You can choose, sure, but I think that once the council announces their choice and asks for the peoples approval..."

Roran sighed. "But to follow in the foot steps of _him._"

"I know, but Roran... You're a great leader. I've heard that people are telling stories of you and your feats all throughout Alagasia. You're a hero to these people, a God. They respect you and you've got a level head and you know how to get out of a tight spot."

"But I don't have any royal heritage. I don't have the blood for it."

"Not necessarily. You are a descendant of Palancar valley..."

"Yes, crazy old King Palancar. Perfect."

"Just think it over. Please. Think of Katrina and your children. They'll lack nothing."

"I suppose." Roran consented, and Eragon knew he had won one more battle.

"Good." Eragon said, smiling.

"So, where is Saphira? I would think that she would want to be here..."

"Well, she said she was on her way. I'm not exactly sure." Eragon said, frowning slightly.

If Eragon had had the time to think about it, he might have considered that Saphira was waiting for him to acknowledge her absence, before pulling her card. A gasp of astonishment wafted from the crowd, who had all at once quieted. Eragon turned to look at what their necks craned to see. Saphira soared above them, looping and arching and corkscrewing in very complex ways. Though she was doing it soundlessly, which had Eragon confused.

Saphira was never one to allow her presence to go unnoticed. Suddenly, she pointed herself towards the earth, in a streamline dive, pulling up at the very last moment. In the blast of air that whipped through the clearing, Eragon caught a faint hint of crushed pine needles. He stiffened, grinning. Roran looked at him from the corners of his eyes, and Eragon knew he was wondering why he was so glad to see his dragon. And Eragon was always happy to see Saphira, but... Saphira landed on the opposite side of the party from him, with almost twenty yards of space between him and her.

It was quiet for another few moments, but then the figure on Saphira's back began to unstrap herself from the saddle. Arya's eyes were gleaming and bright, exhilarated by the flight. Her hair was wind blown, but instead of being wild and tangled, it was still somehow orderly, but obviously unplanned. Jet black, her alabaster white skin seemed to glow against it. The candles shimmered in her eyes, and her lips were redder. Eragon also guessed that she had custom tailored her clothes after he left.

The once tanned black leather was now as jet black as her hair, darker than any color humans could make. The green corset fit her to perfection, showing off her slender waist line, and Eragon was forced to bring the fact that she was lacking nothing involving her 'chest' to the front of his mind, making him weak in the knees. She had obviously made many changes to the corset; the greens were richer to match her eyes, the golds shining brighter, the whites whiter. Eragon had never seen anything so breath taking as the elf walking towards him. And it was _Arya_; his Arya.

She had procured a pair of knee high brown leather boots, that gleamed of newness. The silver buckles on them shimmered and flashed as she leaped more gracefully than a gazelle from Saphira's saddle. She crouched low to the ground to absorb the impact, and fluidly straightened up. The crowd, still struck silent but her beauty, parted before her as she walked the whole length of the clearing to reach Eragon's side.

Under his breath, Eragon heard Roran whisper in a strangled voice "Holy shit."

Arya's lips twitched into a smile. Roran was unaware that she could hear his words with her elven ears. Arya reached Eragon's side and murmured a very out of character "Hey."

"Hello." Eragon's voice was forced, as his throat seemed to have constricted. He couldn't help his eyes from wandering up and down her body at least three times.

"Am I late?" Arya asked in mock confusion, looking around the crowd to see everyone still staring awestruck at her.

"Fashionably so, I assure you." Eragon said, regaining some of his composure. The band, to everyone's relief, picked up their tune once more, and conversations began to pick back up, though Eragon heard Arya's name now flitting from the mouths of dozens of people.

"Good. So do you like the alterations I made to the clothes? I just tweaked a little bit here and there." She said, looking down at herself.

"Let's just say it's a good thing we finally came clean with one another, lest Saphira be forced to drag me out of here in her jaws."

Arya laughed her beautiful tinkling laugh and Eragon smiled. "A good thing indeed."

"I thought I wasn't supposed to show you off? That whole conversation about cliched humans and then you go and do this. I'll have to fight my way out of here with you." Saphira had snaked her way over to their side of the party. Eragon spoke to her. "And what part did you play in this?"

_Well, Arya made the sleazy outfit, but it was my idea for the grand entrance. _

"Brilliant placement of landing by the way."

_Well, if she landed right next to you, there was a chance someone might miss her._

"Yes, because the ten ton giant blue lizard is easily overlooked." Eragon said sarcastically.

_Hey! That's giant blue lizard with wings, fangs, scales, and claws to you, Shorty._

"Well, excuse my lack of lizard know-how." Eragon said.

Saphira let a hot jet of air blow out through her nostrils, almost blowing Eragon and Arya off of their feet. Roran, who had been standing out of the blast laughed as they steadied each other. "Well, I should go find Katrina. She insisted on coming to the dance with one of her friends, and now I have to go hunt her out."

Eragon whipped his eyes over the clearing several times, looking for Katrina's distinctive hair. "There she is." Eragon said pointing to where Katrina stood by one of the twinkling fountains.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Thanks, cousin." He clapped Eragon on the shoulder and jogged off to where his wife stood.

Eragon watched him go for a few seconds before turning back to Arya and Saphira, who stood sheepishly side by side. He was glad they got along so well; Saphira hadn't accepted anyone else like she had with Arya.

"What are you looking at?"

"I'm wondering why the two women I love most in the world would conspire against me." He said looking pointedly at them.

Arya and Saphira laughed, two strangely different sounds but still lovely. Arya spoke. "We were just trying to liven up your day. We wanted to make your last night with the Varden memorable."

"Well, you've certainly succeeded." Eragon said, stepping up to her.

Arya stepped into his arms, touching her forehead to his. She wrapped her arms around his neck and felt his wrap around her waist. The song flitting through the clearing was soft and fluid, and Eragon spun them slowly in a circle.

"Would you like to dance?" He asked.

"Of course." Arya said smiling. She moved her forehead from his, but left her arms where they were.

Eragon led them out onto the dance floor. The center of the floor had cleared out to give them room. Eragon began to spin them. Arya let her mind mold with his, so she knew what his moves would be as soon as he did, and was able to move accordingly. They swirled effortlessly around the dance floor, moving with the grace and speed of a spring river. After a few moments, they began a more intricate set of moves. Eragon let go of Arya and they each spun in the opposite direction of the other, completing a half circle and meeting back up again.

Arya bent over backwards, in an arc above the ground as Eragon followed her movements, but bending forward over top of her. His size was just great enough that he was ale to completely arc his form over her without touching. Eragon felt Arya stirring, not even a second after her hands touched the ground and continued his flip forward as Arya moved in time with him coming up from her back-bend. Eragon twisted his weight so he faced her when they rose. Without pausing to listen to the gasps and cheers, they continued their dance into the night, the likes of which none had ever been seen before.

**Well? WELL? How was that? Props? No? Maybe? Lots of questions? Sure... Well this chapter was a little bit shorter but I figured some was better than none! (As usual, REVIEW = COOKIES!!!!!!)s**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I'm so sorry this hasn't been updated! My laptop broke, and I had to re-write half my stories! Please don't hate me! T.T (← Sad Face...)**

-A Week Later-

Eragon handed the sack of thirty perfectly rounded spheres of marble to Nasuada. "Have these placed in every town you come across. They will alert me of danger, no matter where I am."

"Very Well. It was an honor fight alongside you Eragon. I believe that no one in the land has suffered like you have, but no one is as worthy as you to hold the mantle of Dragon Rider."

"I am honored to know you, your majesty." Eragon added on teasingly.

"Good bye for now Eragon Shadeslayer. Argetlam, Bromsson, and King Killer."

"Good bye, Nasuada." He smiled and swept Arya, who had been standing next to him, bridal style, up onto Saphira's awaiting back. Arya, seated, turned to look at him, love in her eyes. Eragon leaned forward, kissed her lightly, then the took to the skies. Carvahall awaited him. His mate, his farm, and his _home_ awaited him, right on the other side of the horizon. Saphira flew faster.

It was two days later when Eragon and Arya finally landed in Carvahall. Eragon was appalled to see what had become of his home. Wooden spikes lay scattered on the ground. The smell of carrion wafted over to him from a pile of soldiers bodies which had probably been there for the better part of the year. There wasn't much left of them. A coyote ran between two buildings up ahead of him. Eragon got started.

First he pulled the logs outside of the village; the wood could be used to repair the houses. He filled the trench that the spikes had been resting in back with dirt. He sung grass up to grow there. He weeded the entire village using magic, and replanted the gardens. The rest of Carvahall would be arriving in two days time, and he knew they would be pleased to see food awaiting them. Then Eragon turned to the houses. He used magic to clear all the dust from the inside, and he used it again to repair broken wood and windows. He went through all of them to turn furniture right side up. Then Eragon walked to the center of town and repaired the well so the villagers would always have fresh water.

All of this only took about ten minutes, and Eragon barely felt the strain magic put on him, but it wasn't enough to hinder him in the slightest. He rolled out the canvas that had been their tent and attached rope to the four corners. He tested their strength, then asked Saphira

_Could you carry some of these logs to the farm?_

_ Of course._

_ Will you need to come back for Arya and I?_

_ I should think not._

_ Excellent._

Arya jumped up into the saddle, and was closely followed by Eragon. The sight of the farm made Eragon's throat close up. There wasn't one. Weeds had over grown the fields and nature had reclaimed the house; you couldn't even see the foundation. The same thing had happened to the barn. Eragon stood where the house had been.

Instead of burning the weeds, he tried to make a new spell. He made the weeds disintegrate into the soil, transferring their nutrients to the earth, and fertilizing his fields. He opened his eyes when he was done, and was pleased to see that the soil smelled fresh and was a rich black color. He turned to Arya and smiled. Then he turned his eyes to his house, or, rather, where his house had once been.

"Do you think we should build this house so far out?" He asked Arya.

"I don't think it matters. If there's any trouble in town, you could certainly get there fast enough."

"Yes, but, what if someone wanted to visit? It would be a long walk just for a chat and some tea." Eragon's eyes sparkled.

"Hmm. What ever you want."

"On the other side of the fields then." Eragon nodded to himself, and he and Arya casually walked to a new location, only about two or three miles out of town. They were still in the foot hills and their were trees straight up until where the house would sit. A small rise in the ground created a hill and he chose that spot to build his house.

First, he leveled the dirt on top of the hill Then Eragon sung the house so that it would look like other houses. It had wooden planks for walls and he sung special shingles. Normally shingles were only used by people with large quantities of money, because they insulated and sheltered better than thatched hay roofs. There was an open spot on the left wall, where Eragon brought the rocks and clay in his fields to form a chimney. He even added a porch, lined in the front with stones for decoration, then wooden steps coming down from the porch. He made a door that would lead to a cellar. Arya helped by singing furniture into existence. Eragon helped carry it into the it into the house.

The inside, Arya saw, was lovely. Eragon had engraved intricate swirled designs on the walls, not unlike the marbled swirls that had resided on Saphira's egg. All of the floors were wooden except for a polished stone floor in the kitchen. The stair case leading upstairs was amazing, too. It swept out, with a polished mahogany banister. Upstairs, one hall led down and five doors came off it. Three led to detailed bedrooms, one of which had a washroom attached, one led to a study which Eragon filled with bookshelves, a wide window to look out over the farm, two desks, each with a plush, comfortable chair, and the final door led to a separate washroom. Then there was a small ladder leading to an attic.

Eragon and Arya spent the rest of the day singing furniture. They made three large beds, not that they planned on sleeping in separate rooms, but you always had to be prepared for company. Then they built one smaller bed and placed it in the smallest bedroom. Next they made stoves and dressers and drawers and doors and chairs and couches and tables and even a butter churn. By now though, it was getting late and Eragon saw that Arya's eyes were drooping. They retired to their room, each committing the feel of their own bed to memory, and the feeling of safety.

The next morning Eragon arose, to see a sunrise shining through the window in their room. A slight pressure on his chest reminded him that he was not alone. He looked down to see Arya half splayed across him, her midnight hair strewn out in many directions. He absently ran his fingers through it, thinking all the while of what his life would become. He had a family again, and no one could take them away from him. Technically, he was the most powerful person in the known lands. It didn't bother him though. He didn't really even care, so he pushed the thought from his mind.

He was considering the layout of the barn when Arya stirred. It was then that he realized he was still stroking her hair. Arya blinked three times in what Eragon assumed was confusion. Then her eyes flashed to his. He smiled and she closed her eyes again, smiling as well. Eragon felt her relax, and that filled his chest with a warm feeling that could only be blissfulness. Arya sighed. then propped herself up on one arm and just looked at him. Eragon couldn't have been happier.

"Good morning." Eragon casually.

"Good morning, yourself." Arya replied.

"You seem cheery this morning." Eragon noted.

"Do I have a reason to be sad?" She smiled at him.

"I suppose not. So, I was thinking... The rest of Carvahall is going to be here tomorrow, and I'd like to have everything built up by then, but I'm not sure where we're going to get the horses and other farm animals. I suppose Therinsford, if it's still standing that is. If Saphira flies us there, I could buy a wagon, and bring the animals back by tonight, but only if we get the barn built by then."

"Well, let's get started then." Arya grinned and rose.

They dressed quickly and were striding out their front door in no time at all. Eragon choose a location next to an empty field. He brought stones from the field and carved their edges so they'd fit together to make a flat stone floor, then he made the walls. Next, above him, he made a hay loft, making sure it was big enough to store enough hay and grain for all the animals to last through a winter. He made fourteen stalls, seven on the east and west walls, all about ten by ten feet. He made complicated designs on the doors, just for show. He created wooden locks on the doors, with a leather latch over top in memory of the time Burka unlocked his stall and then let Bruge out too. It took him, Roran, and Garrow two hours to catch them. He laughed at the memory. Eragon looked up to where Arya was seated in the empty hay loft. She smiled down to him.

"Are you ready to go?" He asked.

"Of course." Arya said.

They walked out to Saphira and Eragon retrieved her saddle. Once they were in the air, Eragon sighed. He said out loud "Ah this brings back memories, doesn't it Saphira? Like when you kidnapped me? And when Brom was with us... We walked down that very valley; at the time we were going to get horses as well. Ah, how history repeats itself. And yet we never learn..." Saphira chuckled. "Land here, we can walk the rest of the way. We'll be back after the moon has risen."

_You are not the only one who remembers. I distinctly remember every time I left you alone, you got into trouble._

_ You think we're going to get attacked? I don't think we'll run into that problem again, but fly over head then if it pleases you._

_ No, I believe I will hunt, but only if you promise you will do nothing stupid. That is also a memory of mine._

_ Yes, Saphira, I promise. _

The mighty blue dragon let out a puff of smoke a dropped the two elves off two miles out of town. Eragon encased Arya's hand in his larger one. She sighed and closed her eyes, trusting Eragon to guide her.

"I'm so glad it's over." Arya said.

"Well, your not alone. Though most people don't know yet. Actually, I bet we'll be the ones to give the news to Therinsford." Eragon mused.

"It's possible. I've been waiting for this, you know. Though it didn't happen exactly as I planned, it still worked out."

"What worked out?" Eragon asked confused.

"I've been waiting for the King's death so I could tell you. Every night I went to bed hoping the war would end one day sooner. I planned to tell you of my feelings after all this came to a close, but my will power faded."

This surprised Eragon. "Really? … How long have you had feelings for me, Arya?" He sounded morbidly curious.

"Ever since I woke up in Tronjehiem, and saw you battling the twins. I didn't consciously notice until you made me that fairth. Oh, how I wish I hadn't destroyed it." Her eyes clouded over, remembering.

Eragon stayed silent. He wasn't angry at Arya for keeping her true feelings hidden, he was more... relieved. All that suffering was not without due cause. "So, then, at the Agaeti Blodren..."

"Your heart was not the only one that broke that night..." She murmured sadly.

They arrived then at the gates of Therinsford. Eragon was half surprised that it was still standing; he would have guessed that the King would have destroyed it. Regardless, they walked on, smiling at the families and the children running through the street. Eragon remembered the way to the stable where he and Brom had bought Snowfire and Cadoc. They walked in to see Haberth brushing a black stallion. He turned at the sound of their foot steps. Surprise flitted across his face at their obvious elven appearance.

"Do you any horses for sale?" Eragon asked, eying the black stallion appreciatively.

"Indeed I do! By the way, mine name is Haberth." Haberth paused for a moment, looking over Eragon speculatively. "Something tugs at my memory, have we met before?"

"Very good to see you Haberth. Aye, we've met before, though you don't know my name. My name is Eragon. This is Arya."

Haberth shook both of their hands in turn, and he bowed at little to Arya. "So, what are you interested in?" He asked pleasantly.

"We need six horses. Two young stallions and two young mares for riding and breeding, of the best blood you own. Then two draft horses, again stallion and mare."

"Very well." Haberth smiled at them.

"And, like I said, the finest you have. Price is no object."

It was a short while later that Haberth returned, toting two horses at a time, until all six were cross tied in front of Eragon. Eragon walked down the isle, looking at each in turn. He finally said "All of these look incredible, Haberth. Though I wonder, how much will you take for that black stallion there?" Sentimentality filled Eragon as he spoke these words, they were the same Brom had said not but two years ago.

"Shadow there's not for sale. He's one of the finest I've ever bred. I hoping to sire a whole line from him."

"One of the finest?" Eragon asked with a smile on his face.

"Well, there was a horse I had bred a while back. Must be going on two years now. His name was-"

"Snowfire." Eragon cut him off with a smile.

"Yes. It was! How'd you know that?" Haberth asked, suspicion on his face.

"Well, I was a younger lad when I was here the first time. Had an old man with me. Black cape, eagle nose, about this tall." Eragon gestured with his hand. "You said 'Two Hundred Crowns, and no less'! Brom counted them out one by one. It went against your heart, but you sold him to us. And there's never been a finer horse. He kept me and my dragon alive in many a battle. I'd be dead many times over, and then Galbatorix would still be alive!" Eragon grinned slyly, waiting for Haberth's reaction.

In slack jawed awe, Haberth stuttered "I.. I remember! You- the little lad... dragon... the King is dead!" Haberth finally worked out.

Eragon and Arya just nodded in unison.

"How do I know you're not foolin' with me?"

Eragon showed him the Gedway Ignasia, and gave him the memories of the final battle.

"Well, I'll be damned! Thank you, thank you, sir! You have liberated me! The king was going to have my stable shut down, because I was selling to the Varden! Oh, the wonderful news! Here! All of these horses, and tack, only two hundred crowns! A gift, for saving me and my family!"

"Thank you for your generosity, but I must pay full price. It is only right. Please, though, go spread the news. Tell me the price and I'll count out your pay while you're gone."

"Five hundred. That's the most I'll accept!" He said in a hurry, and rushed out the doors.

Eragon took out his coin purse and counted out the right amount. Then, handing the money to Arya with out a word, he knelt and summoned a ball of gold and a diamond. He placed in the front drawer of Haberth's desk for him to find later. He inscribed the Gedway Ignasia on each. He returned to Arya smiling. They paid for the horses and left.

The sun was set by the time they had loaded three new wagons with their animals and supplies for the farm. They left with the whole town waving at them goodbye. About a mile down the road, Arya spoke.

"You did a good thing, with Haberth, and then again at the provisions store." She smiled.

"Well, since I can, I might as well." Eragon said and shrugged.

"And Saphira knows we're on our way?" Arya asked.

"Yes. So... which horse do you want? Your own special horse, for riding or whatever you want. First choice." Eragon 'waoh'ed the horses and turned back to the line. Arya looked ahead of them at the horses pulling the wagon. There were two riding mares, one was solid chestnut, and one was chestnut and white, a paint horse. Then two stallions, one was a black and white paint, and the other solid black, Shadow.

"Hmm. The chestnut and white." She walked over to her, than beamed back at Eragon.

"Okay. What'll you name her?" Eragon asked, walking down the line of horses.

"I think... hmm... how about Myrth? Like mirth, but spelled M-Y-R-T-H..."

"I like it. I think I'll ride Shadow, but name him something different. Agaleo. That's a good, noble name for a horse like him."

"Perfect. The other mare can be Mahna; I've always liked that name." Arya said shaking her head.

"Then the other stallion is Agalano. Agalano and Agaleo, And Myrth and Mahna; it goes good together. Then the draft horses... Chester and Thunder?"

"Why not?" Arya said, smiling.

It was a long ride, but they eventually got back to the house. After bedding down their live stock, Arya and Eragon trudged up into bed. Right before Eragon dozed off, he leaned over and very gently kissed Arya. He just lightly brushed his lips against hers, but it was enough to put them both asleep smiling.

The next morning they awoke to the sound of wagon wheels and live stock and human voices. The rest of Carvahall had arrived. Eragon and Arya dressed hurriedly, saddled Myrth and Agaleo, and cantered down the road to meet them. Most of them were unaware of his and Arya's "relationship" and gave each other quizzical looks, but then they got over it and welcomed them home. They were stopped on the road and hadn't yet seen the repair job Eragon had done one the village. So he and Arya exchanged knowing looks, and made up excuses to travel with them to the center of Carvahall. They both broke out laughing, leaning against each other, at the villagers confused faces.

"Now, wait just a minute! I distinctly remember us fortifying this town. Trees and spikes and a trench. I am very confused." Baldor said.

"Hahahaha." It took Eragon a while to speak. When he did, he and Arya both said "Brisingr" and a small flame floated above each of their hands, one blue and one green. "Magic, remember?" Eragon said. Most people just shook their heads, not understanding and not trying.

**Review? Accept my apology Taco? :(**


	9. THE FINAL CHAPTER!

**THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER! LAST LAST LAST LAST CHAPTER! IT'S BEEN A GREAT RIDE GUYS, AND I HOPE THE ENDING IS GOOD ENOUGH! XD**

"Well, if anyone needs help, our house has been rebuilt about two miles down the road." With that, they wheeled their horses around and galloped down the road. When they returned, Eragon went to the stables and fed the animals their daily meal. Afterwords, he went out side to see Arya brushing Myrth. He joined her, helping her, then grooming Agaleo.

"So... wanna race? No magical trickery or ancient language. Just horse to horse." He asked nonchalantly, gauging her reaction in his peripheral vision.

"Sure. Let's make it more interesting. Bareback." She grinned devilishly at him.

"Okay, but it's your loss. Roran and I used to race bareback through these fields when we were kids."

"You might have the advantage, but I'm still gonna win."

"What makes you think that?"

"I'm lighter."

Eragon had no comeback for that and Arya just laughed. They took the tack off of their horses and used the fences to step up. They decided on racing around the edge of the smallest field, about an eighth of a mile. "On your mark... get set... GO!" Eragon said, jabbing his heels into Agaleo's sides. He felt the powerful horse lunge forward and then he was flying. He didn't dare look back to see where Arya was, for fear of losing his balance. Then he heard horse hooves thumping behind him and a light laughter. Arya flew passed him and he kicked Agaleo's sides again. The horses were neck and neck at the last line of the field, but Arya urged Myrth on, and they won by a nose.

The halted their horses and dismounted, laughing and clutching their guts. "I haven't done that since I was a kid." Arya said.

"Same. That was incredible. You'd be lucky to get old Burka into a trot on one of his good days. Snowfire on the other hand..."

"Come on. I'm hungry. Let's cool off the horses first, and maybe then invite Horst's family for lunch?"

"What about going to Morn's Tavern instead? The whole village would end up here with questions and gifts anyway."

"Okay. Do you think they'll have supplies to feed people?"

"Hmm. Probably not. I'll bring a deer or something. Speaking of which, I think you shouldn't stay so close to the elven diet.

Arya's eyes flashed. "Why would you say that?"

Eragon saw her eyes flash and scary, scary memories crawled into his head of when Arya got angry. He rushed his speech, trying to placate her and prove his point at the same time. "Oh, well, I just personally was raised with meat, and even though you can supplement your diet, it's never quite the same. You weren't raised with meat the way I was, it was such a shock for me to arrive in Ellesmera. Plus I've found that if you subdue the animal with magic, the animal might as well just be going to sleep, and there's nothing cruel about that."

She narrowed her eyes slightly. "...Maybe. Come on. Let's kill something and go." She laughed and tugged him towards the woods behind their house, and Eragon breathed a sigh of relief.

Eragon, using his heightened senses, easily found a very fat buck, and Arya too killed a large buck using magic. She agreed that it was much easier when it seemed like the animal was just falling asleep. No pain or torture, just following the natural order of things. That was all. She agreed to try some meat when they went to Carvahall. Eragon saddled Saphira, and Arya climbed on in front of him. They tied a sling to Saphira's underbelly and placed the deer inside, and took off towards Carvahall. Eragon heard someone shout 'It's Eragon! Eragon and his great blue Dragon! Look, there he is!' When he landed a crowd had already formed and he was passed from person to person, he and Arya hand in hand. A group of children were eying Saphira wearily.

"Oh, don't worry. Saphira's friendly as long as you are. But remember, she's a dragon, not a toy." Eragon said.

The group of ten or so children ran forward then, laughing and stroking her scales.

Eragon and Arya wound their way though the crowd to Morn's tavern, a crowd behind them. He walked through the door and up to the counter where Morn was polishing a glass mug. He looked up and a huge smile spread across him face.

"Eragon! And Arya! How good to see you. Oh, I can't thank you enough, for restoring my home and business. All for nothing, oh what a soul you are, what a soul! We haven't spoken for quite a while, and this may seem out of place, but I've been wanting to say for a while now that I think the world was given a great gift when you were made a dragon rider."

"Thank you, Morn. That really does mean a lot to me."

"So, can I help you with anything?"

"Arya and I have two deer outside, and we wanted to have a sort of welcome back festival. To celebrate the end of the war and everyone's return to Carvahall."

"That sounds like a splendid idea! Gather everyone up and I'll start up the fire. We'll skin the meat and roast it the Carvahall way. Just like old times, eh, kid?"

"That's right. Just like old times." Eragon beamed.

The butchering was a lot of fun, even for Arya. The village welcomed her with open arms, taking her as one of their own without any reluctance. She joined the other wives and maids in baking pies and making tea. The children were practicing their swordsmanship with wooden stakes around the fire pit, but were hurriedly ushered elsewhere by worried mothers. The beer kegs were rolled out and people brought out livestock and goods to trade, just like the annual festivals held every year. Eragon vowed to use no magic that night, he wanted this to be exactly like it would be if he had never found Saphira, though he was so glad he had.

While the deer roasted on their spits, he showed the children and some of the adults a few of the easier sword techniques he had learned. Horst requested that he and Arya spar, to show them all how real warriors fought, and this idea was quickly met by loud cheers and shouts of approval. Eragon removed Brisingr from the sheath at his waist and Arya pulled out her slender elven blade. He blocked the edges of his sword, breaking his no magic rule, but it was only this one time.

They took a fighting stance across from each other, about ten feet of space between them. The village gave them generous amounts of space on every side, and the center of the village was dead quiet. Saphira circled over head. Eragon darted at Arya, almost to fast for human eyes, but Arya still blocked him. They performed some very complicated sword maneuvers, one where Arya swung at Eragon's knees, he flipped backwards, lunged for her gut, she spun and blocked by placing her sword behind her, then flipped so she was behind Eragon. But he spun out of the way just before her blade could behead him, and their battle resumed.

They continued sparring for almost half an hour, neither of them tiring. Eventually, it ended with them crossing their blades, forehead to forehead. They both froze in place, then wide grins broke out on both of their faces and the each took a step backwards and placed their fingers on their sternum, showing respect for one another. Carvahall broke out into loud and raucous cheers. Baldor and Horst removed the two deer from the pit, and started cutting the meat into portions and passing them out among the crowds. The villagers had picked the potatoes from the gardens Eragon had grown for them and made mashed potatoes, as well as green beans and carrots. The women drank their tea and the men drank their ale and everyone was happy.

When Eragon went up to get a platter for he and Arya, Morn beamed at him, and made to give him a few extra chunks of meat. Eragon stopped him before he did so, shaking his head. "Morn, come now. There are still people in line waiting for their food. If you give me extra, we might run out before everyone gets some. Besides, the whole reason I fought so hard in that retched war was so that I could come home to a normal life. I don't want to be treated any differently than the others." Morn smiled at Eragon and nodded.

With plates steaming high with venison, potatoes, beans, carrots, and even some rabbit the children had caught, people sat down about their families, laughing and telling jokes. Eragon returned to where Arya was sitting, chatting comfortably with Tara, Morn's wife, and Elain. Eragon set her plate in front of her. He laughed as Arya scrunched up her nose at the cooked flesh. Elain and Tara simply raised an eyebrow. Arya explained.

"As magic users, we can get into the minds of any living thing, and therefore can sense the emotions and feelings. It's very hard to hunt something while you feel it literally die inside you, and even harder to eat it afterwords as you remember what it went through to provide your dinner. As such, elves are raised on a no-meat diet. I, however, am not your normal elf, and promised Eragon I would try some..."

Elain laughed. "Arya, I'm sorry if this whole celebration has put you in an awkward place. Every season it's a tradition that the village gathers together and everyone brings something, whether it's food or gifts or just something for entertainment. We always serve copious amounts of meat, and I apologize for everyone if it's made you uncomfortable."

"Oh, no, not at all. It's just... something new." Arya said, though at the same time sent a mental picture to Eragon of her looking at the meat, eye twitching. He laughed, and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

"Arya, you don't have to do this if you don't want to."

Arya looked at him dismally, sending him a glare. "Oh yes I do. Do you remember what language we were speaking when I told you I would try do this?"

"Oh, right. Whoops." Eragon said, remembering that they were in fact speaking in the ancient language, and Arya couldn't go back on her word, not now.

Once again, Tara and Elain exchanged confused glances. Of course Eragon and Arya noticed. Tara spoke. "Um, what difference would it make what tongue you were speaking?" She cocked her head sideways.

Eragon grinned. "In the ancient language, you cannot lie. It's the language of magic, and any words you speak binds you to whatever you say. So, when Arya said she would try some meat at the festival, she has too. Though elves have figured out ways to get out of just about any oath."

"What does it sound like? I don't think I've ever heard it before..." Elain asked.

Eragon turned to Arya, and they mentally decided to recite the lines of a blessing. In sync, they both turned back to the women and said "Atra esterni thelduin. Mor'ranr lifa unin hjarta onr. Un du evarinya ono varda."

The whole party had fallen silent. As Eragon and Arya spoke together, in sync, their beautifully musical voices had melded together. They wove within each other, creating an otherworldly sound that rang like bells. The villagers could feel the ancient language stir in their souls. No villager had heard a noise like that before, though in Ellesmera, it was fairly common to hear elves singing together, and had become such a common thing that Eragon and Arya never thought anything of it. Now that they had a chance to sit back and really hear it replayed through human ears, they themselves were moved. It rang like an angelic harp, bubbled like a spring brook, resounded within everyone's souls like the howl of a lone wolf, and reverberated inside everyone's core with the wildness of magic.

Baldor broke the silence. "What was that?"

"The ancient language. It is the language of magic, and the language spoken by the elves. Everything around you has a true name, not a name for the thing, but the thing is it's name. If you know the name, you have power over the thing. That is the ancient language."

"So you were speaking words right then?" Birgit asked.

Arya answered in a voice that seemed much more musical to the newly opened ears. "Yes. It translates into 'May good fortune rule over you, peace live in your heart, and the stars watch over you.' When invoked with magic, it becomes a true blessing, and truly acts over the person."

"Amazing." Someone said in the crowd. Eragon was disturbed to find half of the crowd awestruck, and the other half scared. Too many people Eragon knew well had fear in their eyes. Arya noticed this too, and under the table reached for his hand and squeezed it gently.

When the fires had dimmed and the sun had set, someone called out from the crowd "Eragon. Tell us of some of your adventures." A wave of sentimentality washed over him, as his thoughts turned to Brom. He would have been asked the same question, but instead of him personally, they would ask about the dragon riders, but they had no idea that it was the same thing. They still didn't know. So he stood and began like this.

"There are many stories I could tell you. I could tell you of how I escaped the Ra'zac, was ambushed by Urgals in Yazuac and the horrors I found there, or how we broke into the keep of Terim to steal documents from Risthart, lord of Terim. I could tell you about the advice a werecat gave me, or of how Brom died. I could tell you of how I got captured by Urgals and thrown in a Gil'ead prison, only to find Arya there and save her from a shades clutched, or even more, how I slayed that very same shade in the Dwarven Capital deep under the Beor Mountains. I could tell you of how I studied with the elves and learned their ways, or of the Ageati Blodhren festival and how I became what you see me as today, or when I met the last free dragon, who is unfortunately, no more. But I will not tell a story of me, but rather one I believe you all should know. It is an epic of a great, heroic man who is more than half of the reason why Galbatorix is dead now. All I did was wield the sword." No one had any idea who he was talking about, except Arya, who wiped a small tear from her eye

"I'm afraid I have to give you the condensed version, less you wish to be here until the seasons change. This is the story of a boy born in a small town that is no more. His mother and father were unremarkable people; they held little stature in the world. But the boy carried a very precious gift. It was not gold or silver or jewels, but magic, and because of this he was chosen by the elves to venture to Ellesmera to become a dragon rider. And he was chosen by his dragon to become a dragon rider, for a person does not choose an egg, an egg chooses them."

"There, in the capital of the elves, evil was afoot. The riders were in disarray. The young boy idolized one rider in particular; his idol was strong, handsome, a fearsome warrior, and cunning. There, in the darkest of hours, the exile, Galbatorix, came to this idol and promised him great things if he would only join him and aid him in destroying the riders. Of course, Morzan agreed."

Eragon looked around him to find his crowd riveted. Even Arya was staring at him with wide eyes, and he assumed she had not heard this story before. He continued. "Then, in one bloody battle, Galbatorix with Morzan and twelve other traitors by his side destroyed all of the riders and all of their dragons and all of the dragon eggs, or so they thought. It was in this battle that the dragon of the boy, now a man, died." Eragon paused here, letting the gasps of the crowd sink in. He narrowed his eyes, trying not to imagine what it would be like to lose Saphira. He continued.

"Devastated by grief and loss of identity, due to the strong bond between a dragon and rider, the man swore to take revenge on the person he held responsible for his dragon's death and the destruction of the peaceful world: Morzan. He began to pursue and persecute his formal idol even more intensely than he had first idolized him. But with Morzan being under the King's protection, the man could do nothing."

"However, he did the next best thing. Deep in the Beor Mountains, home of the dwarfs, the man founded the resistance. Through strong connections and much cunning, the man created the Varden, and the King's downfall was set in motion. He led the Varden for a few years before handing it over to a trustworthy man named Weldon, turning once again to his revenge, and set out once again in pursuit of Morzan. He planned to learn as much as he could about Morzan, or least to be able to get close to him, and posed as a gardener for the King. It was there that he met a woman, Morzan's best black hand, and they fell deeply in love."

"The man would meet with his secret love whenever Morzan was off on one of Galbatorix's twisted missions, but he had plenty of time between then. Ever continuing his search, the man's fervor led him to a scholar in Terim named Joed." Eragon saw some of the men's eyes light at the mention of the merchant. Eragon nodded. "Yes, it is the same Joed some of you met on your journey to the Varden. Anyways, Joed claimed to know a secret passage into Galbatorix's castle, and together they organized the successful theft of one of the last three remaining dragon eggs, and also the egg that Saphira hatched from." Saphira lifted her head at the sound of her name, blinked lazily once, then settled her head back down to listen to the rest of the story.

"But something went amiss, and instead of bringing the eggs straight to the Varden, the courier dissapeared. Thus began the greatest race in history. Together, the man and Joed raced against Morzan and the Ra'zac, eventually coming to Gil'ead. It was then that the man was able to react his revenge. But, before the man struck his final blow, Morzan questioned him, asking if he was responsible for the disappearance of his best black hand, who was, of course, the man's lover. Fearful for her life, the man took the dragon egg raced back to Morzan's castle, but was to late, and his love was dead."

Eragon bowed his head for a moment, paying his mother a silent respect. He went on. "The man was able to learn from the maids and healers that she had gotten gravely ill while away in a small town, nestled in the spine, giving birth to the man's child. He gave the recovered egg to the elves, where the Queen's daughter, Arya, was given the task to transport it between the elves and the Varden, in hopes that it would hatch. His task complete, he traveled then to the small town of Carvahall where he could watch over his son in the careful care of Selena's brother and sister in law, in the last farm in the farthest end of the valley, and wait for the day when the rider's would return. The man's name was Brom." Eragon ended his story there, much to the dismay of the crowd. Eragon stepped back and sat down, next to Arya. The village was stunned silent, wide eyed and jaw dropped. Finally, Horst broke the silence.

"Is... Is that all true, Eragon?"

"Aye."

"So Brom was a dragon rider, all this time?"

"Aye."

"And you're his son, and he created the Varden, and helped steal a dragon egg, and killed Morzan?"

"Aye, Aye, and Aye." He said with a grin.

"I feel as if I be in the presence of Royalty or somethin'." Morn said.

"Nonsense. I'm still Eragon."

"I'm starting to think you've never been _just_ Eragon, boy." Horst said with a chuckle.

Eragon laughed. "Maybe, maybe."

"So how is it that you came about the egg, Eragon? I understand that you found it in the spine, and that you brought it back here, but how is it that it got there?" Baldor asked.

Arya answered. "I and two of my companions were on our way to the Varden when Durza, the shade Eragon later killed, and a band of Urgals ambushed us. They killed my two companions, but by then I had used magic to transport the egg into the spine. It was lucky that it appeared so close to Eragon-"

Eragon cut her off. "So close? You sound as if there was room to spare! It couldn't have gotten any closer! One more step and I would have lost my eyebrows!" The crowd chuckled.

"And I've apologized for that! You try sending a dragon egg, one that everyone in Alagasia's life depends on, while being shot at by arrows and magic, as a shade tries to break into your mind, and you are coping with the loss of your two best friends! Let's see how your aim turns out then! Plus, it wasn't like I knew you were there..." Arya snapped at him, but in a playful way. Sarcasm layered her voice as she tried to undermine the pain that the memories caused her.

"Fine, fine. I see your point." Eragon said.

"Well, anyway, that's how Eragon came to have the egg." Arya shrugged.

Elain spoke. "What happened to you, Arya?"

Only Eragon noticed Arya's face slip into her mask as she held back her emotions. Only he noticed the hollow tone in her voice as she tried not to dwell on her words. "I was taken to Gil'ead. It was Durza's personal mission from the King to find out where I had sent the egg, as well as the location of the Varden, the elves, and numerous other things that they knew I knew. They tried many various methods of torture, ones I will not describe to you, though they didn't glean one bit of information from me. The King was a week away when Eragon and his half brother, Murtagh, stumbled upon me."

Eragon scoffed. "We did not stumble. I already knew you were captured and had talked with Brom about going to find you. I would not call that a stumble." He shook his head.

"Then what _would_ you call getting yourself captured by Urgals, then by luck, being thrown in the same prison, and happening to be awake at the one time of the day when they moved me from the torture chamber to my cell, hmm? And did it also just so happen that Murtagh was with his arrows and bow just as you had regained your mind enough to know to escape? _I'd _call that a stumble." She said with raised eyebrows.

The village laughed, and Arya was pleased to see Eragon laughing with them.

"Well it was an organized stumble, eh? Let's leave it at that."

"I believe your giving yourself too much credit."

Eragon scoffed.

Someone in the crowd muttered something along the lines of 'Lover's quarrel', and Eragon and Arya pretended not to hear, and hope the orange light of the fire would cover their blushes. Eragon sat down on the ground, alongside the rest of the villagers, and leaned back, looking up at the stars. He heard a great clinking of stones, and felt through the Earth as the Villagers backed away and Saphira walked over to him. She sighed and flopped (in a graceful way) down closer to him and swung her long neck around so her head, which was nearly as long as Eragon, lay next to him. Eragon outstretched his arm and rubbed her snout. Saphira hummed contentedly and Eragon marveled at the rainbows cast by her scales from the firelight.

The moon was full above their heads, and it covered the land beyond the village in a milky light. The newly repaired houses sat strong on the ground once again, ready to shelter the families who cared for them. Saphira was quickly dozing off, and Arya sat down as well, no longer afraid of affection, and leaned into his side. The fire was hot and it crackled with friendly sounds. Spring was here and the crops would soon be planted, then would come summer, and then the harvest. Winter would be easier now, without the Kings harsh taxes and laws. The spine was no longer a fearful place to be, the night no longer held fear and uncertainty, and slowly the black King, Galbatorix, was forgotten.

**Come on guys, last chapter review? It's your last chance! Tell me how it was, was the ending good enough, was the STORY good enough? Thank you all so dearly for sticking with me through my agonizingly late updates, and an especial thanks to my loyal reviewers who reviewed every chapter!**

P.S. Shiny Silver Disco Hats! Thanks for your help and support! (You know who you are...)


	10. Authors Note! Please Read!

AUTHORS NOTE (Kinda):

So, I know I'm probably going to get so many flames for this but... I'm willing to risk it! I'm desperate. Here's the scoop:

I am a giant nerd. My friends are not giant nerds like I am. Recently (Um, about yesterday-ish to be exact) I made a Wolf RP on and because my friends are somewhat more sane and 'hip' than I am, they have no interest in it. But no one is joining! I'm so lonely! (and a bit peeved that I spent my entire Saturday making it . I refuse to admit defeat! Would any of you be interested? If you PM me on the site, saying you joined because of this note I'll give you a special RP-site bonus (ssh it's a secret! But it'll be a good 'un!) and, if enough join, I may just cook up another chapter for this story! Actually, if just like... four join even... seriously. I'm kinda desperate.

So yeah! Flame away you hateful little things, but I'm throwing away my shame. I spent all freaking Saturday making it, and all of today advertising, and how many members? None! I even have a fancy layout! Think of it this way: 1. You'll be able to talk to me one-on-one, like talking to a celebrity! ^-^ *cricket* *cricket* Kind of... and 2. It's amazing writing practice! That's how became the writer I am. It really does help!

So yeah, with my dignity thoroughly at your mercy, PLEASE! the site blocks the link, so please PM if you're interested (:

:3 Love Sunshine.


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